


Songs in The Key Of Love

by ranguvar82



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Blushing, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is a Sweetheart (Good Omens), Fluff and Smut, Gentle Dom Aziraphale (Good Omens), M/M, Music, Mutual Masturbation, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sub Crowley (Good Omens), Webcam/Video Chat Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-22 12:01:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30038403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ranguvar82/pseuds/ranguvar82
Summary: Aziraphale is a successful country singer who wishes he had someone to share his life with. Enter Crowley, a man he met ten years ago very briefly. Crowley is everything Aziraphale wants.Crowley has been carrying a torch for Aziraphale ever since he briefly met him at an amateur talent night. Now, Aziraphale is famous, and Crowley is sure he doesn't stand a chance.He's wrong.
Relationships: Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer, Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 114
Kudos: 78





	1. Tarnish My Halo

Songs In The Key Of Love

Chapter One: Tarnish My Halo

_2011_

Crowley rinsed off the last of the pint glasses, setting it on the towel with the others to dry before reaching into the soapy sink and pulling the plug. He watched as the gray water disappeared into the sewer system with a loud gurgle. He went over to the liquor bottles, made sure they were clean, then poured himself a shot of whiskey. Ten pm, and the place was deader than a fly blown corpse. He had had exactly one customer, and that had been two hours ago.

“Still no one?” Bee, the manager, came in from the back, looking as always like they had swallowed a lemon. Crowley wasn’t even sure they knew how to smile. But they were a fair employee, and Crowley wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Nope. Wanna drink?”

“Scotch.”

Crowley poured them a generous shot, and they gulped it down. “You know, I talked to Luke yesterday. Told him some of your ideas for getting this place customers.”

“Yeah?” Crowley gulped. The owner, Luke, was a bit scary, but very charismatic. “What’d he say?”

Bee poured themselves another glass of scotch before answering. “He liked the idea of a talent night. Charge ten bucks to get in, offer a free drink to the winner-decided by a vote of the audience, not us, so’s it’s fair. He wants to try one out next week, give us time to post stuff on Facebook. Sound good?”

Crowley shrugged. “Yeah, okay. Want me to do the posting?”

Bee smirked at him. “It was your idea.”

So Crowley went to the Red Serpent Pub’s page and posted about their brand new amateur talent night. He had expected to maybe get a few half hearted responses. Instead, he got hundreds of enthusiastic ones. Talented people were crawling out of the woodwork, it seemed. The first talent night was set for March 2, and Crowley made sure he was the bartender on duty. He didn’t want to miss any of the action.

In total, twenty people had signed up for the first night. Up first was a very twitchy man who fancied himself a comedian. Crowley wanted to sink to the floor in second hand embarrassment after the first joke(a truly tasteless one that was very homophobic to boot), and the audience wasted no time in booing the man off the stage.

Next up was a rather pretty young lady who sang a pretty good cover of a Billie Holiday song, earning polite applause. She bowed, then came over and ordered a Cosmo. Crowley fixed her one. “You got a good voice.”

“Thanks.”

Crowley was serving another customer at the bar when he heard The Voice. It was soft, yet carried through the whole bar, and sent a shiver down his spine. He turned towards the stage and nearly fainted.

Sitting on the stool Bee had placed, tuning a guitar, was the most gorgeous man Crowley had ever seen in his life. White blond hair that went past his shoulders, an open, cherubic face, and dressed like he had just stepped out of some Victorian novel. He finished tuning the guitar and smiled at the audience, and Crowley swooned anew at the brilliance of it. “There we are. Well, hello!” The man waved, grinning. “I feel a bit silly, but well, grab the bull by the horns, as the saying goes. I wrote this song myself, and this is the first time I’ve performed it! I do hope you like it. Oh...um...I’m Aziraphale, by the way. Mouthful, I know.”

Crowley thought that he’d love to get a mouthful of that gorgeous creature. Then Aziraphale began singing, and all thought vanished. Aziraphale’s voice wasn’t smooth or polished. It was raw, and rough, and honest, and Crowley was transfixed.

“You’ve tarnished my halo

You’ve pulled me to sin,

You’ve done all that you know,

Just so you can win.

I’ve fallen in darkness, been lost to the light,

But, see, the thing is, I know you are right.

You claim to be evil, you claim to be wrong,

But why did you tempt me, with love all along?

You’ve tarnished my halo,

You’ve pulled me to sin,

You’ve done all that you know,

Just so you can win.”

“I’ve known you forever,

I know why you hide,

The love that constricts you,

Tears you up from inside.

You’ve tarnished my halo,

You’ve pulled me to sin,

You’ve done all that you know,

Just so..you can win.”

The last note ended, and there was a silence that was almost deafening before the audience and Crowley erupted into loud applause. Aziraphale looked surprised. “Oh, thank you so much!” He bowed, then stepped offstage, and Crowley had an existential crisis when he realized Aziraphale was coming over to the bar.

“Hello!”

Crowley made a squeaky sound. “Um...hi. Wot can I get you?”

“Hmm...any decent reds? Besides you?” Aziraphale asked, winking, and Crowley gobbled a string of consonants before turning and getting down one of their better bottles and pouring Aziraphale a glass.

“Oh, lovely.”

‘Talk to the man, Anthony. Say something!’ “Uh...I like your guitar.” ‘Great. Wonderful. Not stupid at all.’

“Oh, thank you. It belonged to my mother. I nicked it when I got kicked out.”

Crowley threw his head back and laughed. Aziraphale smirked and sipped his wine. “Well, she wasn’t using it.” He set down the glass and made a show of looking Crowley up and down. “You’re quite the tempting morsel, you know.”

Crowley was sure his blush went down to his toes. “Th..thank you.” He’d been hit on before, of course. You didn’t look like he did and not get hit on. But unlike all the others, who made him feel either dirty or worthless, this man was making him feel as though he was..well, tempting. “Y...you look nice too.” That was an understatement. Crowley wanted this Aziraphale to bend him over the bar and fuck him silly.

“I don’t live very far. Perhaps after your shift is over, we could...”

Crowley was about to say that Aziraphale could do anything he wanted when a loud, booming voice said his name. “Aziraphale!”

“Oh, bugger fuck me with a cactus!” Aziraphale growled, then put on a false, bright smile before turning to address the man who had come up to the bar. “Gabriel, what do you want?”

Gabriel smiled, and Crowley wanted to punch it. He was a handsome man, with dark hair and strangely purple eyes. “What did we agree? You’d do one song, then be home before midnight. It’s now one am.”

“I’m not fucking Cinderella, Gabe. And you’re my brother, not my keeper.”

Gabriel’s smile never faltered. “Are you forgetting we’ve got a meeting tomorrow? You are still interested, aren’t you? Can’t go to a meeting without a good night’s sleep.”

“Fucking christ...fine. I’m coming, but I am going to pout the whole time. Bartender, have a lovely night.”

“Yuh, you too.” Crowley babbled. “Oh, by the way, my name’s...” the door closed on the two men. “Crowley.” He finished lamely. That had gone down like the proverbial lead balloon. Still, it wasn’t as if he’d ever see Aziraphale again.

Six months later, Crowley was browsing Youtube for new music when he noticed a video by one Aziraphale ‘Angel’ Fell. Wondering if it was the same man, Crowley clicked on the video. Ten seconds into it, and he had subscribed to Angel Records, Aziraphale’s Youtube page.

That had been the start of it all. Crowley followed Aziraphale’s career, from his humble Youtube beginnings, to his very first record, Falling From Eden. He prided himself on being the first person to buy a copy. Well, two copies. He wanted to preserve one for posterity. He would lie in his bed for hours, listening to Aziraphale’s raw, honest voice. Crowley couldn’t help but notice the queer and religious themes that seemed to run through his songs, and he felt a sense of deep kinship.

His only regret was that he would never get to touch him, to be with him.

_2021_

If there was one thing Aziraphale loved, it was giving autographs. He loved his fans, loved interacting with them and seeing the way he had changed their lives, even if it was for a brief moment. He loved the stories they would tell of how his songs had encouraged them to come out, made them realize they were queer, gave them the courage to confront their parents and say ‘This is who I am.’

Best of all, it annoyed Gabriel. His brother had become...slightly more tolerant of Aziraphale’s blatant pansexuality over the years, but there was still enough guilt from C of E in their youth that he would never truly be fully comfortable with it. Aziraphale, who had decided at sixteen that he was going to do as he pleased and fuck the stringent world he grew up in, relished the moments when he could make Gabriel wince.

Still, for all his hedonism, Aziraphale was smart enough to not do anything truly stupid. He was promiscuous, yes, but he was faithful. When his affairs ended, they ended amicably, and he remained friends with quite a few of his paramours. He always insisted on protection, and got tested every six months. The fact that none of his lovers had truly satisfied him was a bit annoying. See, Aziraphale had certain...tastes, and so far, had come up trumps.

He drank quite a lot, but was always sober when performing, and did not allow excess drinking backstage. He would pose for pictures, but nothing else. He’d even sign autographs, but only on paper or his records.

He smiled up at the young woman who was standing in front of the table. “Hello.”

“Hi! I can’t believe I’m meeting you! ‘Ineffable’ changed my life!”

“Oh, lovely.” She handed him one of his CDs. “Whom shall I make it out to?”

“Jenna.”

Aziraphale scribbled her name, then added his signature in his trademark copperplate writing, followed by his angel wings. “There you are, Jenna.”

She thanked him, and Aziraphale smiled. Behind him, Gabriel sighed theatrically and tapped his watch. Aziraphale ignored him with the ease of long practice. He knew his schedule, and he still had a half hour left before the second act. His black suit-depicting him as a demon-was hanging in his dressing room, and he knew that it took less than five minutes to put on.

He straightened his pens up then sensed movement in front of him, and an object was placed on the table. He looked at it, blinked, rubbed his eyes, and gaped. It was his first album, and it was in pristine shape. The plastic was still on. Aziraphale blinked again, then shook himself. “Oh. Who shall I make it out...” he looked up. “To?” He squeaked. Oh dear lord, the man was gorgeous. Red hair that was in a braid that reached his waist, golden eyes, long, sharp cheekbones, and legs encased in a pair of jeans that looked painted on.

Crowley wanted to faint. Aziraphale was even more gorgeous all these years later. While in line, he had been rehearsing what to say without seeming like a creepy stalker.

“Hi, don’t know if you remember me, but um, I’ve been following your career ever since you did that talent night at the Red Serpent, and um...I was the bartender, but why would you remember me, that was ten years ago, but um..I’ve never forgotten you, and um...may have carried a bit of a torch(no definitely don’t say that!), and um...I love your voice, and the fact you don’t use Autotune, and...”

“Hey! Move it!” Crowley blinked and stepped forward. Aziraphale looked up.

“Oh, fuck me, you’re hot.” The moment the words were out of his mouth, Crowley realized two things. One, he had said that out loud, and loud enough for Aziraphale to hear. And two, the musician was gaping at him.

“What did you say?”

Crowley wondered why the earth wasn’t swallowing him up. “Uh...said I’m a thot?”

Aziraphale tapped his chin with a pen. “Did you now? Because I heard something else.”

Crowley gulped. “Nope, that’s what I said. Uh...you gonna sign that?”

“You gonna sell it?”

“I’d never!”

Aziraphale raked an appreciative gaze up and down the redhead’s body, then licked his lips. Red shivered, and Aziraphale smirked. “Whom shall I make it out to?”

“Erk...um...Crowley.”

Aziraphale signed his name, then pushed the album back. “Gabriel?” He spoke without looking at his brother, his eyes fixed on the rather delectable man in front of him. “Do I still have some backstage passes?”

“Yes, you have some. Why?”

Aziraphale gave Crowley a smile that made his entire body catch fire. “Give one to Mr. Crowley, please.”

“Just Crowley.”

“Just Crowley, then.”

Gabriel frowned. “Aziraphale, I don’t think...”

“I don’t pay you to think, Gabriel. I pay you to manage me, and to indulge my whims. Give the man a pass.”

Gabriel sighed and pulled a pass out from his pocket, handing it over to Crowley. “There.”

Crowley clutched it. Aziraphale stood and ran a finger down Crowley’s cheek. “I do hope you come backstage after the show. I would love to...get to know you better.”

Crowley wasn’t sure how he returned to his seat.

After the concert was over, he made his way backstage, showing off his pass. A very nice lady in very garish makeup that introduced herself as Tracy told him Aziraphale was in his dressing room and pointed Crowley in the right direction.

When he arrived, he knocked. “Come in!”

Aziraphale smiled at Crowley. “Hello, dear boy.” Crowley flushed prettily, and Aziraphale grinned. “Thank you for coming. Please, have a seat.” He indicated the chair opposite. Crowley sank into it. “You look very familiar. Have I met you before?”

“Uh..yuh. Dunno if you remember The Red Serpent?”

“I do! You’re the bartender!”

“Owner now.” Crowley said with pride. Aziraphale looked delighted.

“Owner?!”

Crowley preened. Luke had decided four years ago that he wanted to retire, and had drawn up an airtight contract naming Crowley, as the most senior employee after Bee, as the new owner. Crowley had dived in with both feet, and the Red Serpent was now one of the most popular clubs in Mayfair. Bee was perfectly content with staying manager. “It’s not always easy, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

“I know the feeling.” Aziraphale said with a smile. “Now, I have a proposition for you. I will be blunt. I find you extremely attractive. I would very much like to take you back to my hotel and fuck your brains out. But I’d also love to get to know you. What would you say to dinner beforehand?”

“Ngk...um...yes...”

“Oh, lovely. Come along.”

Crowley followed Aziraphale out, shivering in anticipation.


	2. This Sacred Profanity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner, sex, and conversations.

Chapter Two: This Sacred Profanity

“ _This sacred profanity_

_Deep down inside_

_Pulls you into_

_The darkness that beckons me...”_ (‘This Sacred Profanity’, by Aziraphale Fell Co. Angel Records, 2017)

Crowley was expecting for Aziraphale to take him to a nice restaurant. After all, a celebrity like Aziraphale Fell didn’t go to dives. He was also expecting him to have a nice car for the same reasons.

What he wasn’t expecting was for a stretch limo to pull up to the gate and for Aziraphale to motion him over. Crowley, who had a love for cars, gaped. “This is yours?”

“Of course.” The driver door opened and a young, nervous looking man got out. Aziraphale grinned at him. “Newt!”

“Hello, Mr. Fell. Where to?” Newt asked, while at the same time coming ‘round to open up the passenger side door. Aziraphale slid into the limo, and Crowley followed, marveling at the plush leather interior and sinfully comfortable seats.

“I would like to go to the nicest restaurant in town, please. Do you think you can find one that fits that description?”

Newt grinned and saluted. “Sure can, Boss.” Newt shut the door, got in the driver’s seat, and set off.

Crowley looked around, eyes wide. Aziraphale lounged back in his seat, watching with an indulgent smile on his face. “First time in a limo?”

“Yeah. I never knew they were so...big. Really comfy, too.” Crowley wiggled in his seat, and Aziraphale’s insides squirmed. Crowley noticed the narrowed pupils and wiggled again, slower. Aziraphale growled and leaned forward, wrapping his hand around Crowley’s braid.

“Keep that up and I won’t wait until we’re in my room to fuck you bowlegged.” Crowley whined high in his throat. Aziraphale pressed his lips to Crowley’s neck and nipped him. “Just a taste of what’s to come, my sweet. I wonder what noises you’ll make when you’re coming apart from my hands and cock.”

“Fucck...” Crowley moaned, pressing his legs tight together to try and keep himself under control. He had never felt this intense of a rush before in his life. Aziraphale was so sure of himself, so strong, so confident, and it was awakening something almost primal in Crowley. Aziraphale patted his cheek and sat back, smirking at the panting, wild eyed redhead.

“Would you like a drink?” Aziraphale opened the small liquor cabinet and pulled out a brandy. “Brandy?”

“Y..yeah.” Aziraphale poured him a small snifter. Crowley started to gulp it down, and Aziraphale glared at him.

“We do not guzzle brandy, Crowley.” Crowley gulped and nodded, shivering with a combo of lust and slight terror. He sipped at the brandy, and Aziraphale smiled indulgently. “Much better.”

Crowley ducked his head and blushed, thrilled at the praise.

“Here we are!” Newt pulled up in front of a restaurant. “This place is supposed to have really good food, plus it’s got private booths so you won’t be disturbed.” He got out, opened the door for Crowley and Aziraphale, then after telling them to enjoy themselves, headed off down the street. Crowley gulped.

“This looks like a pretty classy place. Sure I’m not underdressed?”

Aziraphale snorted. “You look fine. Come on, let’s eat.”

They got a private booth, and Aziraphale ordered a red wine for both of them before perusing the menu. “Oooh, some lovely things.”

Crowley stared at it, turned it upside down, then turned it back up. It was incomprehensible. He didn’t know what half the words meant. “Yeah...” He made a show of reading it, and the words swam together. His eyes started throbbing. “Um...did I mention I’ve got severe dyslexia?”

Aziraphale gasped. “No!”

“Yeah. I...” Crowley took a deep breath to calm down. “I...fuck, I can’t fucking read this!” He tossed the menu on the table and was about to leave when Aziraphale put his hand on his arm.

“Would you like me to order something for you?”

Crowley swiped his eyes. “I...yeah. You don’t mind?”

Aziraphale squeezed his arm. “Wouldn’t have asked if I did.” Crowley smiled. “Let’s see, I think for you the coq a vin.”

Their waiter came over and took down their orders(Aziraphale ordered the duck comfit with potatoes), and after he left Crowley took a deep breath. “So. Dyslexic, plus I’ve got coloboma.”

“I’d wondered why your eyes were like that. They’re beautiful, by the way. Is the gold because of your condition, or is it genetic?”

“Genetic. Think my great grandfather had golden eyes.”

“They make you look wonderfully exotic.” Aziraphale said. Crowley smiled.

“Thanks. Usually I get told they make me look like a demon.”

Aziraphale leaned in, wrapping Crowley’s braid in his hands. “Oh no my pet. If anyone’s the demon, it’s me. Tempting a red headed angel into lust and debauchery.” He placed his free hand on Crowley’s thigh and squeezed hard, smiling wickedly at the other man’s loud yelp. “You know all my songs, yes?”

“Guh huh.” Crowley managed. Aziraphale pressed his tongue against Crowley’s neck, licking at the pulse point.

“Your sacred profanity, burning inside of me, binding me to your core...” Aziraphale sang slow and sensually. “Do you know what that’s about?”

“Umm...I...” Crowley was having trouble remembering his name, let alone the meaning of a song that he listened to only four hundred times.

“It’s about how pain and pleasure are linked. The sacred needs the profane. Which do you want to be? Shall I profane your sacristy?”

“Please...” Crowley whined. Aziraphale nipped him again, then sat back.

“Food first.”

Crowley lifted his wineglass to his lips with shaking hands and took a swallow. Fuck, he was so turned on. He wasn’t sure he could manage to eat anything.

To his surprise, he could. The coq au vin was delicious, and the steamed veggies it came with were cooked to perfection and salted just right.

After a lovely dessert of Crepes Suzette, Aziraphale called Newt, who arrived promptly to drive them back to Aziraphale’s hotel. The concierge didn’t even look up when Mr. Fell entered with another man and headed for the elevators. Mr. Fell was a VIP, and as such if he wanted to bring someone up to the penthouse, so long as they didn’t cause trouble, the staff turned a blind eye. It helped that Mr. Fell was one of the nicest VIPs the hotel had, always tipping very generously and never using his status to throw his weight around.

Crowley almost fainted anew when he saw the penthouse. It was bigger than his entire flat. “Wow.”

Aziraphale shed his jacket and motioned for Crowley to sit. “Would you like a glass of something to fortify your nerves?”

“No. I...” Crowley looked down at his shoes, then back up at Aziraphale. “What is this? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I want to have sex, I’m insanely attracted to you, have been for...a long time, but...if this is...if I’m going to be just another notch on your bedpost, I want to know now, so I don’t...attach too much meaning to...whatever happens.” He twisted his hands together and looked back at the floor. “I won’t...won’t lie, that...being just another...notch won’t hurt me deeply, but...I’ll live with it.”

“Oh, Crowley...” Aziraphale came over and sat next to him, gently placing his hand on his cheek. “You’re not. I can’t explain it or try to understand, but what I feel for you, this attraction, I’ve never felt anything so strong. I want you, god knows I want you so bad I ache with it, but I also want to **know** you. I don’t want you to be just another notch. I’ve had enough of those.”

Crowley blinked, then with a whine of passion crashed his lips against Aziraphale’s. The blond blinked in surprise, then kissed back with all he had, wrapping one hand around Crowley’s braid and tugging hard. Crowley whined high in his throat and scooted closer to Aziraphale, who ran his free hand down the front of his crimson shirt, his nails making soft whispering sounds against the silk. “So perfect. Will you give yourself to me, Crowley? Will you let me guide you, take you apart and remake you in my image?”

“Yes yes please please...” Crowley gasped out. Aziraphale tugged on his braid, and Crowley whimpered. 

“Such a good boy, such a sweet boy. Come with me, sweet boy, and I’ll see that you get what you deserve.” Aziraphale stood from the sofa and headed for the bedroom. Crowley followed. 

Once inside, Aziraphale turned to him. “Now, my sweet, good boy, you are going to undress for me. Then you will get on the bed and watch me undress while you touch yourself. You are only permitted to use the tips of your fingers.  You will make every effort not to come. Do you understand?”

“Yes...” Crowley breathed out, eyes blown wide with lust. He was burning, aching with need, the need to please Aziraphale, to do whatever the blond wanted him to do. He stripped out of his clothes with a speed born of horny desperation. 

Aziraphale licked his lips as he took in the glory that was a naked Crowley. “Oh, pet..” He wrapped one hand around Crowley’s cock. “Magnificent. Now, on the bed.” 

Crowley whined and climbed onto the bed, propping himself up on the pillows so he could watch Aziraphale. He stroked himself with the tips of his right hand, using his left to pinch and pull at his nipples, gasping. 

Aziraphale took his time undressing, and by the time he was stripped bare(revealing a cock that made Crowley’s mouth water), the redhead was a panting, shivering mess. He was so turned on that he was sure if Aziraphale just breathed on his cock he would come. “Aziraphale...please...”

Aziraphale climbed onto the bed and moved so he was on top of Crowley, their cocks brushing together. “Please? Please what?”

“Fuck me...please...”

Aziraphale smiled darkly. “Oh my sweet boy...why would I fuck you first? I want to take you apart, remember? You...are something to savor. I want you to be so deep into oblivion when I finish with you that you won’t remember your name.” He grabbed Crowley’s braid and forced his head back. “I want to ruin you.” He snarled. “Now, let’s see how good you are at sucking my cock.” Aziraphale slid up. “Hands behind your head.” Crowley grabbed onto the headboard. “Good boy.” He pressed his cock against Crowley’s soft lips. “Suck me.”

Crowley whined and took Aziraphale into his mouth, sucking as hard as he could. Above him, Aziraphale grunted. “Oh, that is good...suck me harder.” Crowley sucked harder, wrapping his tongue around the long, thick shaft and hollowing his cheeks. “Oh, you are good. Will you let me fuck your sweet, hot mouth?”

“Mmm hmm.” Crowley moaned around Aziraphale’s cock. Fuck, but he tasted so good. Aziraphale braced himself against the headboard and began thrusting. 

“Oh, fuck, Crowley, you take my cock so well, your mouth is so sweet, so hot, this is what you were made for, to suck me so good, such a sweet, filthy boy, such a good boy, good little slut, oh, so fucking good..” Aziraphale chanted as he fucked Crowley’s mouth. Crowley was sobbing in gratitude. He wanted more praise, needed more. He increased his pace, and Aziraphale howled. “Crowley! Oh, so good, so fucking good...I’m going to come...”

Aziraphale’s spend spurted down Crowley’s throat. He swallowed, relishing the taste. Aziraphale reluctantly pulled out of his mouth. “Oh, darling, if that is how it feels to be sucked by you, I cannot wait to know how it feels to fuck you.”

Crowley was beyond speech. He whined and spread his legs, arching up. “Need you inside...”

“Patience, my sweet slut. I need to prepare you first.” Aziraphale placed his fingers on Crowley’s mouth. “Suck.” Crowley sucked, moaning. “Good boy. Now. I’m afraid I don’t have any condoms, but I am clean. You?” 

“Mmmf hmm.” Crowley said. Aziraphale beamed. 

“Lovely.” He withdrew his hand, placing it on Crowley’s right ass cheek and scraping the flesh with his nails. “Now, let’s see about getting you ready for my cock.” He slipped one finger into Crowley’s hole, curling it, and Crowley arched up, a high whine escaping. “Oh, my pet, you are so hot, so tight...” Aziraphale slid in a second finger, scissoring them, and this time Crowley didn’t whine. He screeched. “Oh, what lovely sounds you make.” Aziraphale growled against his throat. He slid his fingers in deeper, seeking for Crowley’s prostrate. Crowley keened. 

Aziraphale’s fingers found what they were searching for, and he pressed down. Crowley howled like a wolf and nearly fell off the bed. “Please please please please” he panted, shaking and gone with lust, fucking himself against Aziraphale’s fingers. 

Aziraphale removed his fingers, then lined himself up and slammed into Crowley. The redhead’s eyes flew open, and he screamed so loud that Aziraphale was sure the windows had rattled. “OH, FUCK YES!”

Aziraphale took a moment to just marvel at how  **right** it felt to be inside Crowley before pulling out and slamming back in again. Crowley howled. “MORE!”

Aziraphale set a brutal pace, fucking Crowley harder than he had ever fucked anyone before. Crowley howled, screamed, whined, and begged for more, wrapping his legs around Aziraphale’s waist and matching his thrusts. Aziraphale bit down hard on Crowley’s throat, and the redhead screeched in pleasure. 

When Crowley’s orgasms hit, they were so powerful that he blacked out. When he came to, Aziraphale was wiping him down with a soft cloth. Crowley laid there, mouth open, covered in sweat. “Oh...my...god...”

“Yes, I must concede. That was...fucking amazing.” Aziraphale said. He tossed the cloth into a nearby hamper. “Can I tempt you to stay the night and have breakfast with me tomorrow?”

Crowley yawned and pressed against him. “You can tempt me into anything.”


	3. Holy Flame Burning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel is a dick, our boys take a bath, and a Contract is made.

Chapter Three: Holy Flame Burning

Aziraphale ran his fingers through Crowley’s hair, smiling when the other man made a happy purring sound and pressed closer to him. “Your hair is so wonderfully soft, love.”

“Y’rs feels nice too.” Crowley said, twirling a strand of the blond curls between his fingers. “Like cotton.” He yawned hugely and snuggled up closer to the singer. “Keep doin’ that?”

“Of course.” Aziraphale continued petting him, humming to himself. “Crowley?”

“Hmm?”

“Would you be up to perhaps having a bath with me? Only I still feel a bit...icky, and the tub in there is quite massive.”

Crowley sighed, pressing his lips to Aziraphale’s neck and inhaling his sandalwood scent. “Up to anything with you.”

“Oh, lovely. Give me a moment to get it ready?” Crowley nodded sleepily, and Aziraphale gently extracted himself from the redhead’s embrace and walked to the bathroom. Crowley wolf whistled.

“Damn, you have a hot arse.”

Aziraphale giggled and did a little burlesque bump and grind. Crowley tried not to die. Aziraphale disappeared into the bathroom, and a few seconds later Crowley heard the water running. He lay back on the pillows, unable to believe what had just happened.

It wasn’t as though he hadn’t had dreams about Aziraphale. It was natural, so he understood, to have fantasies, to wonder what it would be like to be with your favorite celebrity. Some of his dreams were more...vivid than others, but they weren’t bad, or ugly. They were just...dreams. No way they could come true.

Only, they had. This night had seen the realization of several of his most wicked, carnal fantasies, along with the stunning epiphany that he rather liked being bossed around. Aziraphale was so unlike any partner he’d had before, and Crowley reveled in that.

Though he wasn’t completely ignorant. He knew Aziraphale was a celebrity, and as such probably had many, many opportunities to ‘get to know’ his fans better. Still, he had promised that Crowley wouldn’t be just another notch, but Crowley wasn’t sure if he really meant it. Aziraphale had said he wanted to know him, but what if once he found out, he realized that Crowley wasn’t worth the trouble? Or what if some paparazzo dug up the dirt on Crowley’s past and used it to convince Aziraphale that he was no good? Worse, what if Aziraphale simply decided that he was tired of Crowley, with how he had the tendency to fall hard and fast, to cling both emotionally and physically, to..

“Crowley?” Aziraphale’s voice. “Crowley, love, are you alright?”

Crowley blinked back tears he hadn’t even realized were on his face. “Yeah, ‘m fine. Bath ready?”

Aziraphale looked a bit skeptical, but decided to keep his mouth shut for now. “Yeah, it is.” Crowley climbed out of bed and followed Aziraphale into the bathroom. Aziraphale climbed into the large claw foot tub, then beckoned for Crowley to join him. Once they were settled, with Crowley’s head on Aziraphale’s chest, the blond began stroking his spine. “You looked lost in thought back there, pet.”

“I...yeah, a bit.”

Aziraphale kissed his forehead. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It’s just...I’m scared, okay?”

Aziraphale blinked. “Of what?”

Crowley gulped, then spoke in a voice that bordered on sobs. “Th..that you’ll...get tired of me, that you’ll realize I’m not worth it, that you’ll...come to understand that I’m an emotional mess, that I get too attached way too easily, that I struggle with every day tasks sometimes because of my dyslexia, that...god, I know it’s so stupid of me to be thinking this now, when I don’t even fucking know if we’re going to last past this, I mean this right here, me being so bloody stupid when...I don’t...don’t...” He broke down, burying his face in Aziraphale’s chest. “Plus you’re...you know, you, and I’m a nothing, just some asshole who owns a bar and happens to be a fan...not like you haven’t...”

“I haven’t.” Aziraphale said softly. “It was a hard and fast rule I had. Take pictures, give autographs, but nothing else. I have had multiple partners of many genders, yes, but I’ve never been unfaithful while in a relationship. And you know something? None of them have caused such a reaction in me as you have. It’s like...they were the appetizers, and you’re the main course. You are the chorus to their verses.”

“I never forgot you. Crazy, right? We met for maybe five minutes ten years ago, and you lodged yourself in my mind and heart. This blond, blue eyed angel who flirted with me in a way that made me feel special, not like dirt, and who had a voice that could make anyone sit up and listen. I bought everything you put out, listened to your songs over and over, watched all the videos, the interviews, the awards shows, everything. And the whole time, you’re just so..kind, and sweet, and then you get onstage and your songs are so raw, and deep, and honest. No one sings like that without knowing what it’s like to be...an outsider.”

“My parents threw me out of the house at sixteen when I announced I was pansexual and also no longer believed in..well, not God, but religion. I realized that no true loving god would condone the vile things my parents said about people who couldn’t help how they were born. Gabriel tried to reason with them, but even he was disgusted by the pansexuality.”

Crowley snarled. “Wanker.”

Aziraphale sighed. “Yes, but he’s gotten marginally better, and I honestly couldn’t function without him. He’s an asshole, but his organizational skills border on the supernatural, whereas I sometimes forget what day it is, especially if I’m working on a new song or reading.”

“You read a lot?”

“Voraciously, when I’m not working or touring.”

“Could you...maybe...read to me sometime? I love books, but...”

Aziraphale beamed. “My darling, I would love to. Now, this water is getting rather chilly, so I propose we get out, and go snuggle under the lovely warm covers.”

Crowley agreed that was a wonderful idea.

Aziraphale pulled Crowley close in the darkness, pressing a soft kiss to the nape of his neck. “Dream about whatever you like best, my darling.”

“You’re what I like best,” Crowley murmured, a sleepy smile on his face. Aziraphale felt his heart skip a beat.

“So are you.” He whispered to the sleeping Crowley.

Aziraphale woke the next morning with the feeling that something was clinging to him. He yawned, rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and looked down at his chest, laughing to himself. Crowley was wrapped around him like a barnacle, his long legs tangled with Aziraphale’s and his arms circling his waist. He was still asleep, and...oh, dear god, making the most adorable hissing sound. Aziraphale would not have been shocked to see his tongue flickering in and out.

Nature was calling, and after several tries, Aziraphale was able to wriggle out of Crowley’s octopus-like grip and make his way to the bathroom. He heard a soft whine behind him, and tried not to laugh.

“Zirphale? Where you go?”

Aziraphale came out of the bathroom, heart full at the sight of the sleepy eyed Crowley, his long hair sticking up in various places, a look of serene peace on his face. “Come back to bed. Want more snuggles.” Crowley said, holding his arms open. Aziraphale came over and sat next to him. Crowley wrapped himself around the blond. “Feel so soft, so nice. So...” Crowley purred. “Angelic.”

“You feel rather good yourself, love. How are you this morning?”

“Well fucked and very happy, thank you.”

Aziraphale cackled. “Glad to be of service. Would you like some breakfast? Coffee?”

Crowley yawned. “Coffee sounds great. Do we have to get dressed?”

“Well, I will at some point. I’ve got a matinee concert at two, and I’m pretty sure I’m not allowed to perform starkers. Might cause a riot.”

Crowley grinned. “Dunno, might sell even more tickets if people knew how sexy you really were.”

Aziraphale kissed him. “You’re very sweet. Oh, and speaking of tickets, Gabriel’s coming by later to give you yours. I’m assuming you want to see me sing?”

“Yeah, course.”

“Excellent. Now, how do you like your coffee?”

“Black as night and bitter as sin.”

Crowley was admiring how he looked in the hotel’s silk robe(and Aziraphale was pretending to write while ogling the gorgeous man in front of him and plotting things to do to him) when there was a knock on the door. “Come in!”

Gabriel came sailing in, a wide smile on his face. It died when he noticed Crowley. “Uh, Zira? Who’s this?”

“Don’t call me Zira, and this is Crowley. You met yesterday, remember?” Aziraphale said without looking up from his notebook. “What sounds better, ‘my flaming sword I gave to you,’ or ‘a sword of flame was given?’”

Crowley frowned. “The first one. Makes it seem more personal.”

Aziraphale scribbled the line down. “Yes, that is much better. Thank you, love.” Crowley blushed. Gabriel loudly cleared his throat.

“We’ve got business to discuss, so if your little groupie could maybe get dressed and vamoose, that would be great. Then again, my brother usually has better sense than to go to bed with red headed sluts.”

Crowley turned, gaping at Gabriel in shock and hurt, while at the same time Aziraphale looked up, rage flashing in his eyes. “Don’t you dare talk to him like that! Or are you forgetting I asked you to get him tickets to the show this afternoon?!”

Gabriel rolled his eyes and pulled a ticket out of his jacket. “Here. Now, the grownups need to talk, so why don’t you go find something to do, okay? Something that involves wearing clothes, if you’re capable of that. Your sort usually aren’t.” He said to Crowley, smiling. Crowley gaped anew, then turned on his heel and stomped towards the bedroom, emerging moments later fully dressed.

“See ya later.”

“No, Crowley...” Aziraphale winced as the door slammed hard on its hinges. “You really are the world’s asshole, Gabriel.”

“I’m looking out for you. It’s one thing for you to get mixed up with some minor celebrity, even someone in the industry. But a groupie? I thought you knew better. The guy’s clearly a parasite.”

“I do not need ‘looking after’, and thanks to you, I may have ruined what promised to be one of the best relationships of my life. You know what? Whatever you have to say, it can wait. I’m going to find Crowley and make sure you haven’t ruined everything.” Aziraphale stood and walked to the door. “Feel free to help yourself to coffee or room service if you want to wait.”

Crowley wasn’t in the hotel. Aziraphale went to the front desk and was told that he had gone out of the front doors about five minutes ago, but the concierge wasn’t quite sure which way he had gone. Aziraphale thanked her, then headed out, asking the doorman the same question.

“Yessir, I saw him. Guy headed down that way.” He pointed to his left. Aziraphale thanked him and started off down the road, which was lined on either side with quaint little shops.

In the end, he nearly ran into him. Crowley was standing in front of a shop window that seemed to specialize in space memorabilia, staring at a poster of a super nova. “Beginnings of a black hole. It’s an area in space that’s so dense even light can’t escape from it. That’s me. I’m a black hole.”

Aziraphale gently took his hand. “Well, then it’s a good thing I don’t want to escape. Crowley, what Gabriel said...it was out of line.”

“Not the first time I’ve been called a slut. I’m not, you know. It’s been...well, a long time, let’s just put it that way, and my last relationship wasn’t exactly roses and champagne. But um...” Crowley ducked his head. “I...kinda really loved it when you called me one last night, when...I’ve um...c’n we go someplace and talk?”

“Of course.” They walked down a bit to a cafe and got a booth. Aziraphale ordered a root beer and Crowley a coke. “What is it?”

“Um...so...you’re a...y’know...” Crowley flushed.

“A Dominant, yes.”

“Well...um...up until last night, I’d never...been with...I really, really loved it, and um...couldimaybebeyoursubmissive?”

Aziraphale leaned in and licked at Crowley’s pulse point. “Say that slower, pet.”

“Wanna be your Submissive.” Crowley said, his face crimson. “Want you to...order me around, treat me like your pet, do what you want to me.”

“Is there anything you don’t like?” Aziraphale asked. Crowley thought.

“No...gross stuff, like...body fluid. Except come. I’ll...eat your come, if you ask. No degrading talk. I love being called a slut by you because you...sound so proud of me. Um...I really love being bitten, just enough to draw a little blood and leave marks. I’ll also dress up for you, if you want. I love wearing lingerie just on general principles, and I’ve got no problem wearing dresses ‘cause I’m genderfluid. I just...want you to make me feel special.”

“Darling, you are. When we get back to the hotel, I’ll draw up a contract, that way we can go over in detail what your likes and dislikes are, agree on a safe word, that sort of thing.”

“Okay. Then after will you fuck me?”

Aziraphale laughed. “I think that can be arranged, yes.”

Later that night, after a very good lunch, an even better show(Crowley got front row seats and blushed when Aziraphale threw him a kiss from the stage) and a lobster dinner, Aziraphale drew up a contract and went over it with Crowley, listing what it was for(Crowley becoming Aziraphale’s Submissive), what Crowley would call Aziraphale(Master in private, Aziraphale in public), Crowley’s Safe Word(apples) and his likes(very numerous, willing to try many things) and dislikes(body fluids, humiliation, degradation). Crowley read it very thoroughly, signed his name, then at the orders of his master stripped naked, knelt on the hotel floor, and sucked Aziraphale’s brains out through his cock.

Aziraphale then proceeded to use the sashes of the robes to tie him to the bed and put him through exquisite tortures before sliding into him and fucking him into oblivion.

“I’m keeping you,” the singer whispered into Crowley’s ear as they lay together.

“Goodie.”


	4. Raven Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Video sex, a concert, and a realization.

Chapter Four: Raven Wings

Crowley woke the next morning to the rich, deep smell of coffee. He slid out from under the covers of the hotel bed, smiling sleepily at his master(and his heart skipped a beat at that thought), who was smiling back at him, a mug in his hand. “Good morning, love. Made it fresh for you.”

Crowley blushed. “Thought I was the one supposed to do things for you, Master.”

Aziraphale slid in next to him, passing Crowley the steaming mug. The redhead sat up and took a sip, closing his eyes. It was perfect, just how he liked it. He inhaled the dark, rich scent. Aziraphale draped an arm over him. “What sort of master would I be if I didn’t indulge my gorgeous pet once in a while? Pets deserve pampering too, and I plan on pampering you quite a lot.”

Crowley wiggled happily and took another sip of coffee. “I think I’ll like being pampered, Master. I’ve never really been before, you know.”

Aziraphale pressed a kiss to the side of his head. “Well, then I will make it my mission to spoil you quite rotten. I do have a question. Might I know your first name?”

“Anthony.”

“Anthony.” Aziraphale said his name like it was a priceless treasure, and Crowley whined, set the coffee down on the nightstand, slid into Aziraphale’s lap, and kissed him breathless. Aziraphale buried his fingers in Crowley’s hair, tugging hard and eliciting another whine of pleasure. Crowley ran his fingers through Aziraphale’s cotton soft hair, sighing. “What a beautiful name.”

Crowley blushed. “Thank you.”

“Are you named for anyone?”

“My grandpa. What about you?”

Aziraphale sucked a kiss into Crowley’s neck before answering. “Well, according to some religious lore, Aziraphale was the name of the angel that guarded the Eastern Gate of Eden. It’s said that he had a sword of flame, and he gave it to Adam and Eve to keep them safe and warm after they got kicked out for eating the apple.”

Crowley slid his hand down Aziraphale’s chest. “Is that why your nickname is Angel?”

Aziraphale sucked in a breath when Crowley’s hand reached his cock and gently stroked it. “Th..that’s part of it, yes. But it’s also because I am very well known for my generous charity work. But I thought you knew thaAA...” Crowley had slid down and taken Aziraphale’s cock deep down his throat, working it with his tongue until Aziraphale was fully erect inside him. “You...oh fuck...are...oh god Anthony your mouth your sweet hot mouth...supposed to be my...oh, my pet you are so fucking good at this...biggest faaAAANN!” Aziraphale screamed Crowley’s name and came down his throat. Crowley sighed happily and swallowed, then made sure to lap up the bits he had missed. Aziraphale collapsed back on the pillows, panting.

A loud jangling sound broke the silence, and Aziraphale groaned and fumbled for his trousers, pulling out his mobile. “What, Gabriel?”

“What are you doing?” Gabriel sounded annoyed, but then he always sounded annoyed. “You’ve got a show this morning, remember?”

“Yes, Gabriel, I know. The show, as you have reminded me every two hours, is not until eleven, and it is now...” Aziraphale looked at his phone. “Nine o clock. It takes very little time to get from this hotel to the venue, which is why I picked it. I am going to take a shower, have some breakfast, and I will arrive on time. I know I sometimes lose track of days, but I am not so poorly organized that I need you to hold my hand.”

“Okay, fine. Just remember you have to be here an hour before for the interview.”

“Oh, FUCK! That’s today?!” Aziraphale was already out of bed, rifling through the dresser and pulling on a pair of black trousers that Crowley thought did wonders for his ass. He ran-walked to the closet, yanking it open and staring at his shirts like he’d never seen them before. “Help me!” He mouthed to Crowley.

Crowley slid out of bed and sauntered over to the closet, smirking at Master’s whine of need. He knew he looked good naked, and he swiveled his hips, showing off like the proud peacock he was. He picked out a red and black checkered shirt and handed it to Aziraphale. “This one.”

“Thank you, darling.” Aziraphale kissed him and shrugged into his shirt, then slipped on his shoes, gave him a quick kiss, and headed for the door. “Gabriel, please tell me Newt’s on the way.”

“Of course, Sunshine.”

“Thank Christ. Bye.” Aziraphale rang off, then turned to Crowley. “Darling, I need to go, but I’ve set it with the Box Office. There will be a ticket waiting for you, and after I’m done, we’re going to come back here and you can demonstrate more of your wicked tongue.”

“Okay, Angel.” Aziraphale gave him another kiss and left. Crowley fell onto the sofa, sighing. His mobile was nearby, and he picked it up, checking to see if he had any messages.

There was one from Bee asking how the concert went. Crowley stretched out on the sofa and sent them a reply.

‘Better than I ever thought.’

Their reply came back moments later.

‘Fuck that supposed to mean?’

Crowley frowned. He wanted to shout from the rooftops that he was Aziraphale’s, but he wasn’t sure if Aziraphale wanted the world to know. So instead, he told a half truth. ‘Got to meet Fell. All stories are true, he’s an angel.’

‘Lucky. Did you get an autograph?’

‘Yep. And a picture.’ Crowley opened his gallery, pulling up the picture that he had taken of him and Aziraphale right after dinner the night before. He sent it to Bee, waiting for their reaction.

‘Awesome! Oh, don’t worry ‘bout RS. We’re handling it fine. Ana’s being her usual self.’

Crowley cackled. Anathema Device was the newest bartender/waitress/terrifying force that Bee had hired to help when Hastur, the cook, was let go due to the fact that Crowley was tired of finding dead frogs and other animals in the kitchen. Anathema had come into the bar, announced that she was looking for a job and that ‘the stars’ had told her this was where it would be. Crowley had decided on a whim to give her a chance.

Anathema was rash, impulsive, abrasive, and energetic. Crowley and Bee liked her at once, and she proved to be a more than efficient addition to the team. She was an excellent bartender, a very good cook, and had a way of intimidating people without having to resort to physical violence.

‘Thanks, Bee.’

‘No problem. See ya later.’

Crowley set his phone down then went to get dressed and have some breakfast before heading to the venue and Aziraphale.

In the meantime, Aziraphale was trying not to look too bored. He hated interviews. Oh, he didn’t hate answering the questions, but he hated the moments beforehand, when the photographers were swarming him, telling him to tilt his head this way, to smile, to look this way or that way, to act like a fucking performing monkey. He half expected a pat on the head.

Finally, the photographers took the last pictures, and Aziraphale sighed in audible relief and sat down, smiling at the interviewer. She was one he had talked with many times before, a lovely red head named Scarlet. “Aziraphale, it’s lovely to see you again.”

“You as well.”

Scarlet turned on her recorder. “Now, when we last spoke, you had just released your newest album, ‘With Unbound Wings,’ and your latest song, ‘Raven Wings’ had hit number one on the charts. How’s that going?”

Aziraphale smiled. “Very well. As you know, a percentage of profit from that song and album go towards funding queer shelters in London, as well as helping queer youths in...bad situations.”

“That’s wonderful. Will you be performing any songs from Unbound Wings at the concert tonight?”

“I just might.”

“Oh, good. Now, I have to ask. Is there anyone special?”

Aziraphale smirked. “There is, but I don’t want to share the details just now. Suffice it to say he’s very lovely, and I am quite happy.”

Scarlet nodded, knowing the value of discretion. “Very well. Now, what’s next after this tour? Can we expect another album soon?”

Aziraphale laughed. “Not too soon, I’m afraid. I’ve got some down time coming. But you know me, always scribbling down ideas, so who knows? I may write a few songs.”

“Lovely. Thank you, as always.”

They shook hands. “It was my pleasure, Scarlet.”

After the interview, Aziraphale went to his dressing room to recover. He sighed, letting his head fall onto the dressing table. “Ugh.”

His phone buzzed. He picked it up, smiling at the text from Crowley. ‘Hi Master how are things going?’

‘Bloody boring without you.’

‘Maybe I can help with that’. Crowley texted. Aziraphale grinned.

‘Maybe you could, Pet. How would you do that?’

‘Well, first off, I’d start by kissing you, letting you touch my nipples.’

Aziraphale growled. ‘Video call. Now.’

After a few moments, Crowley’s face appeared on Aziraphale’s phone, eyes dark with lust. Aziraphale propped the phone against the mirror. “Now. Show me what you would do if I were there.”

Crowley whined and scooted back on the bed, letting Master see the whole gorgeous length of him. He sucked his fingers into his mouth, moaning wantonly. Aziraphale groaned and rubbed his hand against his crotch. Crowley’s other hand slid down, teasing and pulling at his nipples. “I’d ask you to bite me, to suck on my nipples until they turned purple, Master. I’d beg for you to leave marks all over my chest, while at the same time pulling my hair.”

“Show me.”

Crowley whined and tugged hard on his hair. “Then I’d...oh, Master...I’d beg for you to use your nails, to leave red, deep marks on my stomach, chest, and arms...” he groaned out letting his hands rove over the places he wanted Master to touch, to scratch. Aziraphale had unbuttoned his trousers by now and was stroking himself, moaning.

“Oh my Pet, what a gorgeous sight you are. What else would you do for me?”

“I...I’d beg you to suck my cock...”

“Oh, Anthony, I would. I’d lick you first, though. Savor that delectable cock like it’s meant to be. Then I’d take you in little by little, making sure to bite. Would you like that, love? My teeth on your cock, my tongue?”

“Yes, please Master, please...” Crowley whined, stroking himself. Aziraphale leaned in.

“Tilt the phone so I can watch you masturbate, Anthony.” The phone jiggled for a second, then Aziraphale’s screen was filled with Crowley’s perfect cock, erect and leaking from the tip. Crowley’s hand was moving at a frantic pace. “Slowly, pet. I want to savor this.” Crowley’s hand slowed. “Good, good boy. Good little pet. Sweet darling slut.”

“Master...” Crowley whined, squeezing his balls with one hand as he pumped his cock with the other. Aziraphale sat back in his chair, his own cock out and dripping.

“Can you see my cock, Crowley? Can you see what I’m doing?” Aziraphale moaned, his hand pumping.

“Yes Master...”

“I’m imagining it’s you, your hand on me, jerking me so good, like the darling slut you are. You’re licking me in between, that soft, hot velvet tongue of yours is all over my cock, getting it so wet...do you have any lube nearby?”

“Y...ohh...yes, Master...” Crowley’s voice was a steady whine.

“I want you to fuck yourself on your fingers, Anthony. I want you to imagine that it’s my tongue in your asshole, licking, biting, sucking, that my fingers are opening you up...”

“Hnnngg...” Crowley was past all coherent speech. He slicked his fingers up and slid them deep into himself, bucking his hips wildly. “Master Master Master...” he panted, wild eyed and breathless.

“Good boy, good pet, sweet slut, my darling...” Aziraphale chanted, his own hand pumping his cock hard. “Come for me, come for Master.”

Crowley screamed and came. Aziraphale followed seconds later, his own cry echoing. Thank god his dressing room was soundproof, or he’d be getting some very awkward looks.

“Such a good boy, such a darling. Now, the show is soon, and I don’t want you to be late. Go get cleaned up.”

“Yes, Master.”

Aziraphale rung off and wiped himself down, then buttoned up his trousers, took a drink of water, and headed for the makeup trailer.

Once that was done, he gathered up his guitar and headed for the stage. The fright came up, and he tamped it down. It was part of the price of fame. He took a deep breath, counted back from ten, then stepped onto the stage. The applause washed over him, and he felt, as ever, the rush that came from it. This was his life. It wasn’t easy, but he loved it. Loved sharing his words and music with the world.

“Thank you! Thank you so much! I’m so happy to be here!” He scanned the front row, and his eyes fell on Crowley. Only Aziraphale’s professionalism kept him from leaping off the stage and kissing him. His pet was dressed in the most lovely crimson shirt, with black trousers that looked painted on. He had on smoky eye makeup, blood red lipstick, and his hair was done up in the most elaborate braid Aziraphale had ever seen. His boots were snakeskin, and he had painted his nails a deep crimson to match his shirt. Aziraphale’s throat bobbed, then he looked out at the rest of the audience. “Well, let’s get a wiggle on!” He strummed his guitar, getting it in tune, then adjusted the mic so it was near his mouth.

“Your raven wings, they covered me,

Your blackened heart, discovered me,

I saw your mind, your eyes of gold,

What will you do, your tale is told.

With unbound wings, we now can fly,

Your fear is gone, I hear you cry,

The Grace you had, is formed anew

Replaced by love, a love so true.

I know the world can’t understand

But we both know, we’ll make our stand

Our raven wings, spread out and free,

Will tell the world we’re meant to be.

With unbound wings, we now can fly,

Our fear is gone, I hear you cry.

The Grace we had, is formed anew,

Replaced by love, a love that’s true.”

Aziraphale let the applause wash over him. Crowley was applauding wildly, whistling, and Aziraphale blew him a kiss and a wink that made him turn the same color as his shirt. Crowley recovered, though, and blew his own kiss, batting his eyelashes.

‘Oh, fuck me. I love the man.’ Aziraphale realized with a jolt.


	5. Bind Me To Your Core

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The relationship progresses

Chapter Five: Bind Me To Your Core

Aziraphale sat in his dressing room, going over and over in his head the startling realization that he had fallen rather deeply in love with Anthony Crowley. The tiny, rational part of his brain insisted that it was too soon, that he had only known Crowley for a few days, that he hadn’t seen him at his worst. Hadn’t seen him angry, or sad, or…

‘But you have.’ His heart declared. ‘You saw all of that when Gabriel insulted him. You saw him angry, and hurt, and devastated.’

‘We’re from different worlds’, his logic side said stubbornly. ‘Even if by some miracle the press doesn’t find out now, they will soon, and Anthony could be eviscerated by them, since he doesn’t know how to deal with shark reporters. I do.’

‘He makes us happy. We’re smiling more, we’re laughing, and there’s no denying that he’s the best lover we’ve ever had.’ His heart contradicted. Aziraphale mentally told both his head and heart to shut up.

A knock on the door made him look up. “It’s not locked.” The door opened and Crowley came in. “Hello, darling.”

Crowley shut the door, came over, and slid into Aziraphale’s lap, wrapping his arms tight around him. “Master.” He placed a chaste kiss to Aziraphale’s cheek. “Are you okay?”

“I..don’t know, pet.”

“C’n tell me. Can tell me anything, Master.”

Aziraphale smiled and stroked Crowley’s spine. “I can, can’t I? It’s...you’ll probably think me silly, since I’ve only known you for a few days, but...I rather think I’m falling in love with you. I know logic and reason say that’s impossible, but, there we are.”

“I love you too. Well, I...” Crowley blushed. “I’ve had a...major crush on you for years, but I never thought it would...that anything would come of it. Thought you’d just be...” the blush somehow deepened, “um...dream material.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “Dream material? May I assume they’re the sort of dreams that involve sex?”

Crowley bit his lip. “Some were. But there were others that...I used to dream that you wrote songs for me, and sang them to me alone. Or that you wrote lyrics on my back with edible markers and then sang into my skin as we made love. Or on my chest, or all over me.”

“Is that...something you’d like to try, Pet? Me writing on your naked skin? Marking you with my words, my deepest thoughts?” Aziraphale asked, carding his fingers through Crowley’s hair. “By the way, you look bloody gorgeous.”

“Yes, Master. You have such beautiful handwriting, to have it marked on my body would be an honor and privilege.”

“My darling. When this show is over, we will find a place that sells edible markers, then go back to the hotel and make your fantasy come true.”

Crowley beamed and kissed him. Aziraphale kissed back, deepening it and slipping his tongue into Crowley’s mouth. “Mmm...my love, I have only a few moments before I have to get back onstage, and if we keep kissing like this, I shall miss my cue, which is something I have never done.”

Crowley reluctantly broke the kiss. “Don’t want that. I’ll go back to my seat.” He uncurled himself and headed back to the stage. “Master?”

“Yes?”

Crowley gave him a smile that lit up his entire face. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Crowley settled back into his seat, feeling giddy. Aziraphale, his Master, loved him. Crowley had never thought that could happen. He wouldn’t have minded if Aziraphale just wanted a physical relationship, Master to Submissive, but knowing that there was love in the mix just made it better, more exciting. And now he would be able to fulfill one of his deepest fantasies with someone that loved him, that knew what he wanted wasn’t sick, or deviant, or twisted.

Crowley had, in his thirty three years on this Earth, harbored many and varied fantasies, but the one that always seemed to dominate was Body Writing. He wanted to be marked up, to have words inked into his skin. He had tattoos, yes, and Master had praised them, spending hours it seemed tracing them with his tongue, but writing was more. Writing was intimate, opening up your deepest thoughts and sharing them with another person. Crowley wanted that intimacy, and he couldn’t think of a better person to share it with than Aziraphale.

Aziraphale strummed the last chord on his guitar and bowed, taking in the applause that was his due. “Thank you, thank you so much. I always get a thrill out of performing for all you lovely people. Now remember, be your best selves, and have a lovely night.” He turned and headed backstage to change and wait for his darling pet.

He didn’t have to wait long. Crowley came into his dressing room just as he was buttoning up his shirt. Without a word, the redhead came over and took hold of the buttons, slipping them neatly into the holes. “Oh, thank you, darling. Though I admit, I would have thought you’d be undoing my work.”

Crowley blushed, smiling, and ducked his head. “Well, I want to go get the markers so you can write songs on me, Master.”

“You sweet thing. Give me a second to make sure I have everything, and give Newt a call.” Crowley nodded. Aziraphale pulled out his mobile and scrolled to Newt’s picture in his contacts.

“Hello, Mr. Fell.”

“Newt, my dear boy, would you happen to know the locale of a high end, very reliable sex shop?”

Aziraphale could **hear** the blush. “Um, well, I...not...Tracy!”

“Yes, dearie?” Tracy’s voice sounded in the background. “What is it?”

“Um..Boss wants to talk to you.” There was a shuffling sound, then Tracy’s voice. “Yes, Aziraphale?”

“Know any good, high end sex shops in the area?”

“Oh, yes indeed. Let’s see, the one I have been using for years is called Apple of Eden, run by a lovely couple. They have all sorts of lovely toys.”

Aziraphale scribbled the name down. “Would they have edible paints?”

“Oh, of course.”

“Thank you very much.” Aziraphale ended the call, then Googled the shop. “Hmm, about four blocks away. What say we walk? It’s a lovely night for it.”

“Okay.”

They left the venue and started off down the road, their hands linked. “Where do you live when you’re not touring?” Crowley asked. 

Aziraphale smiled up at him. “Soho. And you?”

“Mayfair. Do you like living there?”

“Mmm, I do. It gives me a bit of anonymity. Most of my neighbors know what I do for a living, and they also know I like my privacy. I’ve been recognized a few times in my neighborhood, but nothing too extreme.”

Crowley giggled. “No hot guys coming up to you and asking for an autograph?”

“No.” Aziraphale said with a laugh. “No hot guys. Or girls. Or anything else.”

They walked in comfortable silence for a few more blocks. “Think this is it.” Crowley said as they rounded a corner and came upon a building with a brick edifice and a large plate glass window with a very good drawing of an apple. 

The interior of the shop was cool, with dim lighting. A middle aged lady dressed in a sweater and jeans stood behind the counter in front of them, tapping away on a computer. She looked up, smiled, and held up a finger. Aziraphale nodded and began browsing the wall to his right, which held a number of lashes, whips, and crops. He could tell right off that they were of very high quality. He picked up one of the lashes, a deep blue one and flicked it. “Oooh. Anthony, love, how would you feel about being whipped?”

Crowley gulped. “I think I would like it, Master.” Aziraphale handed him the whip. “Oh! It’s soft.”

“Well, of course. It’s for pleasure, not for hurting. Well...not the bad kind of hurting. They are all quite nice, and my collection is getting a bit frayed.”

“Collection?”

“Oh, yes.” Aziraphale said in a dark, soft voice. “I have quite the collection at my flat in Soho. You’ll have to come visit me for a weekend. Or a week. Or a month.” Crowley shivered in anticipation and joy at the idea of being used by his master for a month straight. 

The woman finished what she was doing and came over. “Welcome to Apple of Eden. I’m Joyce, the co owner. How may I help you gentlemen?”

“Edible body paints?” Aziraphale asked. “And, well, do you mind if we browse?”

“No, not at all. Is this your first time?”

“In a sex shop? Definitely not.” Aziraphale said. Crowley blushed and nodded. “My darling is a bit flustered, though. Crowley, sweetness, why don’t you go pick out the paints? What aisle are they on?”

“Ten.” Crowley headed down the center aisle. Joyce turned to Aziraphale. “He’s very shy.”

“He is, but he’s also very sweet and very willing. I’d like to purchase some whips and crops. Which would you recommend?”

“Has he ever been hit before?”

“No, but I am quite the expert at it.”

Joyce hmmed and got down a crop with a wider base. “This is good for beginning Submissives. The effect is quite erotic,  and the sensation is not too painful. As for whips, your best bet is the one you’re holding. More heads mean that it’s easier to mark up larger areas without too much exertion.”

“Oh, thank you. Would you happen to have ropes?”

“What sort?”

Aziraphale grinned. “Shibari. I have a rig at home, and I rather would love to get some use out of it.”

“Check aisle six. We just got some in the other day.”

Crowley found the body paints. Not knowing what Master would or wouldn’t like, he found a basket at the end of the aisle and dumped one of each kind into it, then headed back up to the counter. He stopped at aisle eight. ‘Leashes, Collars, and Restraints’ was written in large, bold letters above. Gulping, Crowley went down the aisle. 

He imagined himself in a collar, and nothing else, Aziraphale petting his hair and telling him what a good doggy he was as he sucked him off, then resting his head on Master’s lap, Master holding onto his leash as he fucked him hard, whispering in Crowley’s ear that he was a good boy, an obedient boy, so well behaved. Crowley whined, biting his knuckles. He wanted a leash and collar, but he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to get one without Master’s permission. He even knew the one he wanted. It was a wide one, and it was a deep red on one side and black on the other. It had tiny metal studs in it, and the leash next to it was black with metal studs. 

“Anthony? Sweetness, you alright?”Aziraphale had come down the aisle. He looked at the collars, then at Crowley. “Does my doggy want a collar?”

If Crowley had a tail, it would be wagging. “Yes, please, Master. I want that one.” Crowley pointed to the one he had picked out. Aziraphale picked it up. 

“You have excellent taste, my sweet slut. Let’s go pay for these, okay?”

“Okay. What are the ropes for?”

“Well, when we’re at my flat, I am going to introduce you to Shibari. Do you know what that is?”

“Being tied up?”

Aziraphale chuckled and ran his hand down Crowley’s chest. “Oh, my darling boy, it is  **so much more** than just ‘being tied up.’ And I cannot wait for you to experience it.”

Aziraphale paid for their items and they left the shop. “You know, I recall we passed a quaint looking cafe on the way here. What say we go get some dinner, then go back to the hotel and try out these paints?”

“Sounds good to me.”

The cafe had very good, if rustic food. Aziraphale had a pastrami on rye and Crowley had their soup, which was loaded potato and a ham sandwich. There was a brief interruption when Aziraphale was recognized by one of the other patrons. Happily, the young lady did not take up too much of their time, content with getting a quick picture and an autograph before going back to her table and gushing to an older lady who was most likely her mother. The older lady looked over at Aziraphale, then shrugged and turned back to her food. Crowley grinned. “That happen often? Younger ones love you, but not their parents?”

“More often then you’d think. Some parents can be extremely hide bound. And I speak from experience.”

Crowley swirled his spoon in the soup. “I was fifteen.”

“Hmm?”

“When I got kicked out. See, my dad...he’d always hated my guts for some reason. Thought that Mum had gotten pregnant on purpose. Which, yeah, she had, because she was a fucking idiot in love with an older guy, and well, what’s the phrase? Marry in haste..”

“Repent in leisure.” Aziraphale finished. “My parents were the same. Mother got pregnant with Gabriel, and her parents told her if he was a bastard, they would disown her completely. She cared more for their money than him, so my father and her were married by a justice of the peace, and Gabriel came along three months later, legitimate as could be.”

“Mum and Dad didn’t have two shillings to rub together. My Mum’s dad, and his brother ganged up on my Dad and told him they’d beat the living shit out of him unless he made an honest woman out of my Mum. Dad refused at first, and they kept their promise. He married my Mum with his arm in a sling and a black eye, but it was legit. I came along eight months later, with these eyes, and Mum took one look at me and screamed that I was a demon. She...” Crowley took a sip of his soda. “She refused to even touch me after that, and when she did, she never...held me. It was all quick touches, and she...” Crowley choked on a sob. “She always looked so...horrified and disgusted by it. Dad hated me from the start, and...it got worse. He would hit me, slap me, kick me, and Mum would just...let him, because she hated touching me, hated looking at me. We had...there was a closet, in the hallway. It was small, and cramped, and...Mum used to lock me in there when I was bad, which was...a lot, because spanking would mean she’d have to..touch me, and um...because of that, I have severe claustrophobia. Then when I..started to try to learn to read, and got the dyslexia diagnosis, they both had new fuel to add to the fire of ‘You’ve ruined our lives, we never should have had you, you’re evil, and so on.” He gulped, and Aziraphale pulled him into his embrace. “Anyway. Things went on like that, then I made the mistake of coming out. Told them I was gay, and genderfluid. Next thing I know, I’m outside with a suitcase and my parents are telling me to never come back.”

“Oh, darling. Where did you go?”

“Found a bus station and slept there, then found a shelter for homeless queer youth. Went there, managed to make it through secondary, but couldn’t afford Uni. Got some odd jobs here and there, some more...legit than others. I never dealt drugs. I want to say that right now, in case you ever do a background check on me. I never did anything truly, truly illegal. Some of the jobs I did paid under the table, but I never got mixed up in anything really bad. I swear.”

“I believe you. How did you come to own the Red Serpent?”

Crowley laughed. “Oh, that’s a story. So, one of the jobs I had was...not bodyguard, more...intimidation. I look intimidating, don’t I?”

“Absolutely.” Aziraphale said in a teasing tone, and Crowley blushed. 

“Anyway, one of my employees was a man named Lucas Star, who was just opening up a nightclub/bar and looking for help. I’d taken a few bar tending courses online, just for fun, and asked Luke if he would be willing to give me a chance. He said yes, and well, I blew him away, and when I met Bee, we got on like a house on fire.”

“Were you and Luke…?”

Crowley blinked, then laughed until he cried. “Oh, God, no. He’s got a wife, Lily. She’s his complete opposite, sweet, charming, and very nice, and he worships the ground she walks on. Bee’s attached too. Their spouse, Dagon, sometimes works in the front when we’re busy.  In fact...” Crowley grinned. “The only one that’s not attached is Anathema. She’s...quite the colorful character. Bee and I love her. We should introduce her to Newt!”

Aziraphale laughed. “What a splendid idea.”

“That tickles!” Crowley said, doing his best not to wiggle too much as he stifled a laugh. “I didn’t realize it would tickle!”

Aziraphale giggled and continued sketching a pair of wings onto Crowley’s lovely naked back. “I do hope these are washable as well as edible.” He sucked a kiss onto one of the feathers. “Oooh, strawberry. Quite nice. There. Don’t you look gorgeous. My own fallen angel.” Aziraphale kissed Crowley between the shoulder blades, then reached for another marker. “Turn around, love.”

Crowley turned, gazing up at Aziraphale with such love and trust that it made him gasp. “Oh, how I love you.” They shared a deep, passionate kiss,  then Aziraphale began writing words on Crowley’s chest. 

“My fallen angel, evermore

Bind me, lead me, into your core

Drown me, burn me, set me aflame

Hold me, love me, as I cry your name.

Angel, Fallen, guide my soul,

Burn me, freeze me, take your toll,

Surrender to me all you are, 

Angel, Fallen, my dark star.”

“Oh, Master...” Crowley kissed him, and kissed him, and soon they were lost in each others orbit. 


	6. Shining Grace And Burning Halos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our boys make a decision that changes everything.

Chapter Six: Shining Grace and Burning Halos

“Oh, my sweet pet, you are so fucking good at that...” Aziraphale moaned, burying his hands in Crowley’s hair and lazily thrusting his hips, pushing his cock deeper down Crowley’s throat. His sweet little pet moaned in happiness and sucked harder, working Aziraphale with his teeth and tongue.

Aziraphale was sitting on the hotel sofa, impeccably buttoned up, his trousers open just enough to pull out his cock. In contrast, Crowley was kneeling on the floor, naked except for the collar Aziraphale had purchased earlier that evening. His hands were tied behind his back, and there was a silken pillow underneath him. He bobbed his head faster, wanting Master to come, needing him to come, needing to feel his heat, to taste him.

Aziraphale gave one final, lazy thrust and came down Crowley’s throat with a soft cry of completion. Crowley swallowed, then licked up the bits that remained before standing and sliding into Aziraphale’s lap. Aziraphale steadied him with one arm around his waist. “What do you want now, my darling, my sweet doggy?” He asked, peppering his chest with kisses. Crowley moaned and rubbed the cleft of his ass against Aziraphale’s still hard cock.

“Fill me, Master. Fill me with your perfect cock and fuck me until I see stars.” Crowley whined, trying to press down. Aziraphale stilled him, and Crowley whined at the blatant display of strength. “Please Master!”

Aziraphale reached for the lube on the nightstand and slicked himself up, then poured a generous amount on his fingers and slid them deep into Crowley’s hole. His darling arched, a shrill whine coming from his throat, and Aziraphale was galvanized into action.

With a growl, he grabbed Crowley’s hips and impaled him on his cock. Crowley howled like a wolf. “MASTER!” Aziraphale held him steady as he set a fast, almost brutal pace, fucking up into his love’s perfect heat.

“So good for me, such a good doggy, so obedient, such a good, good boy, dear little pet, dear darling, my sweet loving slut, my darling.” Aziraphale growled into his ear as he fucked him. Crowley’s whine was steady, and his undulated his hips, pressing against his master as best as he could with his hands bound behind his back, his spine arching.

“Master please let me touch you please let me touch you!”

“You are touching me, my sweet darling.”

Crowley whimpered. “Want my hands on you, want to touch you with my hands please Master!”

Aziraphale reached behind and deftly undid the knot holding Crowley’s hands tied. The rope slithered to the floor. Instantly, Crowley’s hands were pressed against Aziraphale’s chest, stroking the material of his jacket. Crowley sighed and leaned in for a kiss. Aziraphale was more than happy to oblige. “Do you want me to come inside you, my love?”

“Yes, please Master!”

Aziraphale’s hips stuttered, and he came hard and deep inside his love’s ass. Crowley screeched in pleasure and came seconds later, roping his chest and stomach. “Such a good, good boy.” He traced Crowley’s collar with one finger. “You look so breathtaking like this, my darling. With your hair unbound like the fiery cascade it is, my marks all over you, wearing that collar. But, I must say, as gorgeous as you look with that one, a bespoke one would be even better. I know someone that makes the most exquisite collars. Would you like me to have her make you one? I could even have it customized with your name, or my name, or whatever you wish.”

“Yes, Master, I would like that very much.” Crowley nuzzled into Aziraphale’s neck. “Can we have a bath, please Master?”

Aziraphale kissed the top of his head. “Of course, my darling. Why don’t you go get it ready and get in, and I will be right behind you.” Crowley slid off Aziraphale’s lap and sauntered into the bathroom, his hips swaying. Aziraphale stood and undressed, draping his clothes neatly over the back of the sofa.

Crowley was already in the bath when Aziraphale came in. He smiled hugely and held his arms out. “Master.” Aziraphale climbed into the tub, then moved so he could pull Crowley into his arms and ran his hands up and down his lover’s spine. Crowley let out a deep sigh of contentment. “Don’t want this weekend to end.”

With a jolt, Aziraphale realized it was Sunday night. “Neither do I, my love. This has been the best weekend of my entire life.”

“Same. Got a Master.” Crowley said, placing a soft kiss on Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Fell in love, got to meet the man of my dreams and found out he’s even more wonderful and sexy and amazing in person. Found out how much I love submitting to him, how much faith and trust I have for him.”

“Oh, my love. I can safely say that you are the most wonderful person I have ever known. So beautiful, so obedient, so willing. Your faith and trust in me is dazzling, and I swear I will never, ever do anything to break it.”

Crowley hummed, tracing patterns on Aziraphale’s chest with his fingers. “If I could come with you, I would. Spend every night in your bed, every day watching you perform. I’d lay in bed, naked, waiting for you to come home to me. You could tie me up, put a plug in me, leave me helpless, waiting for your touch.”

Aziraphale gulped. “Why can’t you?”

Crowley sighed. “Bee can’t run the Red Serpent on their own, not for any extended length of time.”

“Darling, the tour only runs for another two weeks. Surely they can find temporary help.” Aziraphale suggested. “You’re the owner, shouldn’t what you say go?”

Crowley blinked, then grinned. “You’re right. Will you excuse me, Master? I need to make a phone call.” Aziraphale nodded, and Crowley climbed out of the tub, wrapped a towel around his waist, and scurried out of the bathroom.

His mobile was tangled up in his trousers. He pulled it out, then pulled up Bee’s contact.

“Crowley, why the fuck are you calling me at ten o clock on fucking Sunday night?”

“To ask a huge, huge favor.”

“You’re the boss, I’m supposed to ask you that.” Bee snarked. Crowley couldn’t help the grin.

“I need you to hold the fort down just for a bit longer. Hire extra help if you have to. That kid, Adam, see if he’s willing to work weekends.”

Bee sighed. “How much longer?”

“Umm...two weeks. I know, I know it’s a long time, but this is really important to me.”

Bee’s sigh was deep. “Does this have anything to do with Fell?”

“Mayybee...” Crowley hedged. “Bee, I swear, when the time is right I’ll tell you everything, give you all the details, but right now I really, really need you to do me this one small favor.”

“Fine. I’ll keep the place from going up in flames for another two weeks. But you owe me.”

“Big time. Thanks!” Crowley rang off and leaned against the sofa, grinning. Aziraphale came into the room, a towel around his waist, and sat next to him. “All set, Master. I’m yours for the next two weeks.”

“Just the next two weeks?” Aziraphale asked, a teasing tone in his voice. Crowley made a face.

“An’ forever after.”

“Darling...” Aziraphale pulled Crowley into his lap, pulled away both their towels, and proceeded to give him a thorough seeing to.

Crowley woke the next morning to the sound of raised voices. He recognized his master’s voice, but the other one took him a moment. Gabriel.

“Are you out of your mind?!” Gabriel was shouting, and Crowley whimpered and hid under the covers. Memories of his father screaming at him rose to the surface. “If you think for one second I am going to allow you to bring your little twink slut with you on tour and make us a laughingstock, you have another think coming!”

“I don’t see how it’s any of your business, Gabriel.” Aziraphale wasn’t yelling, but his calm voice was tight with rage. “I am happier than I have ever been with anyone. Anthony is coming with me, and to hell with what you think.”

“And the press?! What happens when they get word of this?”

Aziraphale growled. “Well, seeing as I have no intention of telling them anything at the moment, and I implicitly trust my staff to do the same, the only way they would find out would be if you told them, and I know you aren’t suicidal enough to do that.” There was a pause. “Look, I do appreciate that you feel you have to look out for me. You’re my brother, it’s what you do. But I am a grown man, and I know my own mind.”

Gabriel’s sigh was loud and resigned. “Fine. Take the twink with you. Who knows, maybe you’ll get sick of each other before the week is out.”

“Thank you. Now would you please leave so I can wake Anthony and get some breakfast?”

Aziraphale came into the bedroom, sliding in next to the lean lump under the covers. “Anthony? Darling, are you awake?”

Crowley poked his head out of the blankets and slid into his lap. “No more yelling?”

“Oh! You heard. Gabriel’s...god, he’s an ass.”

“Don’t like yelling. Dad yelled. Mum yelled.”

“Oh, sweetness. I’m so sorry if you were triggered.”

Crowley breathed in the sandalwood scent of his master. “You won’t ever yell, will you, Master?”

“Never.” Aziraphale said firmly. “Well, unless I’m screaming your name as I come inside you.”

“That doesn’t count.” Crowley said with a chuckle. Aziraphale laughed and kissed him. “M hungry, Master. Can we go get some breakfast?”

“Of course. And my last show on this leg isn’t until six tonight, so we are going to spend the whole day together. How does that sound?”

“Perfect, Master.”

After a very nice breakfast in the hotel restaurant, Aziraphale went to the front desk and got suggestions for places to go, things to see, shops to visit, and restaurants in the area from the concierge. He thanked her profusely and gave her a generous tip for her help.

The first stop on the agenda was a garden park a few steps from the hotel. Crowley’s eyes lit up at the flowers, and he began gushing, telling Aziraphale their names, how long it took to grow them, their life cycles, and so on. “Fond of plants, are you?”

Crowley blushed. “Yes. Master. I have some at my flat. Bee’s watering them for me.”

“Oh, lovely. Would you like me to buy you a pot to take care of while we’re together?”

“I...yes, please, Master.”

The garden park had a small outdoor gift shop. Aziraphale perused the selection of potted plants. There were so many, and he felt overwhelmed. “Darling, why don’t you choose?”

Crowley knew just which one to choose. He reached into one of the wooden shelves and plucked out a lovely red pot that held a white flower. “This one.” Crowley declared.

“It’s lovely. Why that one?”

Crowley blushed. “Well, ‘sa lily. The common name is Peace Lily, but it’s...also called the Angel lily.”

Aziraphale beamed. “Oh, my darling.” He paid for the lily, still beaming. Crowley giggled.

“Thank you.”

After the park, they went down the street, peeking in shop windows and going into quite a few. Aziraphale spent some time in a used bookstore, and Crowley browsed the cases of a very high end jewelry store. Aziraphale purchased a few books, and bought Crowley a necklace that had a star pendant and a pair of dangling earrings shaped like moons.

They had lunch at a nearby seafood restaurant. Aziraphale had the bass, and Crowley had salmon. After lunch, they went back to the hotel to drop off their purchases and rest. Aziraphale sat on the sofa, beckoning Crowley over. The redhead came willingly, sliding into his lap. “Would you like for me to read to you, love?”

“Yes, please, Master.”

Aziraphale picked up one of the books he had purchased. “It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.”

Crowley sighed to himself, letting his Master’s voice wash over him.


	7. Traveling By Your Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tour begins.

Chapter Seven: Traveling By Your Side

**Monday Morning**

Crowley woke up to the rich smell of coffee and the salty one of bacon. He slid out of bed and went into the dining area of the penthouse, where Aziraphale was already seated, munching away on waffles and sipping on his cup of coffee(two milks, no sugar), a spiral bound notebook opened in front of him. Crowley came over and slid into his lap, resting his head on his shoulder. “Well, good morning, sleepyhead.” Aziraphale said with a grin, setting down his mug so he could fully embrace his love. “And how are we this morning?”

“Good, Master. Is there coffee for me too?”

“In the pot. I just brewed a fresh one, because I knew you’d be sleeping late. Wear you out, did I?” Aziraphale’s voice held a hint of smug pride, and Crowley blushed. 

“A bit, Master.”

Aziraphale traced Crowley’s bare arm, where he had bitten and sucked the night before, leaving red marks all over. “You’re going to bruise, and be so very beautiful when you do. You have such lovely smooth skin.”

“Thank you, Master.” Crowley kissed him, then slid out of his lap, fixed himself a cup of coffee and nicked a few pieces of bacon from the tray before settling back into his master’s lap. “So everything’s squared, right? I’m coming with you?”

Aziraphale stroked his arm. “That you are. You’ll be given front row seats at each venue, backstage passes, and whatever other preferential treatment you can think of. The hotels we stay at will be informed that you are a VIP guest and are to be treated as such. Now, there will be some days that while my show may not start until late, I may have interviews, photo ops, that sort of thing, and as much as I would love to shunt those aside in favor of fucking you in many varied and carnal ways, I must oblige them. You have two choices with that. You could come with me for moral support, and let the press draw their own conclusions, or you could take that time to explore whatever city we’re in. I’ll even leave my card with you.”

“Are you going to tell them about me? The press, I mean?”

Aziraphale sighed. “Do you want me to? If you do, there’s certain reporters I trust more than others to not turn this into a media circus. Scarlet’s been a friend for years, and she would be fair in her reporting, and not ask too many uncomfortable questions.”

Crowley gulped. “I...don’t want them to know, yet. I...what if Gabriel turns out to be right, and we do get sick of each other? A hotel room is pretty close quarters, no matter how big they are? What if you find out that I’m too high maintenance for you?”

“Are you?”

“Am I what?”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “High maintenance?”

“N..no, I don’t think I am, but Michael, my ex, was constantly telling me that. I can’t help it if I like nice things! I never had them growing up, so what if I want a necklace, or a nice bit of lingerie, or even a dress?”

Aziraphale turned his face so he could look into the golden eyes. “You, my sweet flame, deserve luxury, and pampering, and all the finer things in life, and I think this tour will give me the chance to introduce you to them.” He kissed him, sighing at the coffee taste. “ I love you, you know.”

“I love you too, Master. What’s in the notebook?” 

Aziraphale chuckled at the abrupt change in subject. “This is my Idea Book. Well, the...” he did a quick mental calculation. “Fortieth? I think. It’s where I write down scraps of lyrics, ideas for songs, and sometimes just my thoughts. I always start a new leg of a tour by writing down at least four ideas, that way I’m never idle and my mind doesn’t stagnate.”

Crowley pulled the notebook close and flipped through it, admiring the neat copperplate writing. “Y’know, in all the interviews, whenever you’re asked about where you learned to play guitar and sing, you..hedge. You always just say that you learned as a kid.”

“I do, don’t I?” Aziraphale said with a rueful smile. “Truth is, I never really learned.” Crowley gave him a look. “No, really. The guitar was my Mother’s, that’s the truth, and I did take it when I left. But even before that, I was playing it more than her. I picked it up one day, and just...played. Pretty sure I’m some sort of musical savant. Do you know I only have to look at my lyrics once and I’ve memorized them?”

“Really?”

“Mm hmm. I was a busker on the Tube for a while, and made decent money, enough to keep me in a flat that wasn’t a complete shit hole. Then about six months after my parents and I parted company, Gabriel came to see me. Apparently, according to him, he had a friend of a friend that had a buddy that had seen me busking on the Tube and been impressed by my talents, and wanted to have a meeting. Well, I went, and the buddy was a slime ball. Wanted to lock me into a contract that would give him all the money and me the shaft.”

Crowley giggled. “What did you do?”

“Told him where he could shove his contract and left. The next day I went and registered for Uni.”

“Music major, right? That was in one of the interviews you gave for The Observer.”

“Yep. So after I graduated, I kept making music, putting my videos up on Youtube with the help of an ex of mine who was far more tech savvy than me. It was Dan’s idea to call my channel Angel Records. I hadn’t gone public with the channel yet, and only a few people knew about it. Dan’s the one that turned me on to the talent night at the Red Serpent. He’d been there a few times and liked it. So he talked me into it, and we both wore Gabriel down. He agreed on condition that after, I meet with a producer that wanted to talk to me about a contract.”

Crowley giggled. “And you showed up, and I fell head over heels in about six seconds, then you flirted outrageously with me and I was about to beg you to bend me over the bar and fuck me silly when Cock Block Gabriel showed up and dragged you out.”

Aziraphale cackled. “Yes, and I gave him quite the earful in the car. Next morning, we went to the meeting, the producer was legit, and I signed on with him under the condition that I get to keep the name Angel Records and that my voice would not be manipulated to sound...purer, I guess.”

“I love your voice.” Crowley said. “It’s so different from everyone’s. So raw, and honest. I listened to ‘Wrapped in the Rainbow’ so many times I wore out the CD and had to download it.”

Aziraphale kissed the side of his head. “Wrapped in the rainbow, lost in the light, tell me it’s over, I don’t want to fight. Lost in the dark, adrift in my mind, why can’t you be patient, why can’t you be kind?”

Crowley gulped and sang, his soft tenor surprising Aziraphale. “I tried not to be me, I tried to be good, but nothing has changed, as if it ever would. Wrapped in the rainbow, myself I won’t hide, and if you can’t accept that, then this is goodbye. I’ll be wrapped in the rainbow, safe here and warm.” Crowley blinked back tears. 

“Anthony?”

“Hmm?”

“You have a beautiful voice. I’ve never cried hearing my songs sung, but...” Aziraphale wiped his eyes. “That’s one of the few songs I cried while writing. You know what it’s about, right?”

“Yeah. It’s almost become a sort of queer anthem. Did you write it right after you left home?”

“A few years after. I’d...gone back, to try and reconcile, and my parents gave me a choice. Move back in, and deny my pansexuality, be the good son and do what they wanted, or I could continue my deviant lifestyle and never speak to or see them again. I chose the latter, and we have not spoken or communicated since.”

“I don’t think my parents even know if I’m dead or alive. Not that I want those fuckers to know. Dad used to tell me that I’d end up in the gutter, that I was nothing, and Mum, well, she just hated me. I guess she thought I’d be this cute little baby with red hair and blue eyes like hers. Only person that gave two shits for me was my teacher in primary, Ms. Hodges. She could talk the tongue off a brass monkey, but she listened, too. I found out that I was good at organizing things, so she would let me stay after class and rearrange the bookshelves. She’s the one that gave me my first plant. It was a carnation, and I killed it in two days.” Crowley looked over at the sofa. Grinning, Aziraphale stood and carried him over, sitting down so he was still in his lap. Crowley stretched his legs out, wiggling his bare toes. “I came to her crying, sure that I was going to get punished, but instead she patiently explained what I might have done wrong, and how to fix it. She gave me another flower, this time an iris, and told me that my project was to keep it alive until the end of term.”

Aziraphale smiled. “And did you?” 

Crowley wiggled in pride. “I did! One of the proudest moments of my life, walking into the classroom with my flower and showing it to her. After that, I was nuts for plants and flowers. Even had a little garden at home.”

“What did your parents think?”

Crowley snorted. “Oh, anything I did wasn’t right, so they hated it. Dad would go and rip up the plants on a biweekly basis, as a way to punish me for daring to have a ‘sissy hobby’. He’d rip them out, and I’d just go to the garden center, buy new ones with my pocket money, and replant. When I got kicked out, Dad poured bleach on them.”

“What an asshole.”

“Yeah. Fuckin’ miracle I didn’t turn out like either of them.”

“Indeed.” Aziraphale agreed. “Darling, as much as I would love to continue simply holding you, as you fit my plumpness so nicely, I sadly have a nine thirty call for my eleven am show today, and it is now eight thirty, and I predict that Gabriel will be coming to get me...”

“AZIRAPHALE!”

“Right now. Coming, Gabriel!” He slid off the couch. “Anthony, I will see you very soon.”

After Aziraphale and Gabriel left(the latter admonishing the former, who ignored every word and pretended like he was listening, something he had become quite adept at) Crowley flipped through the TV for a bit. There was a Golden Girls rerun on, and he watched that, then watched a bit of Say Yes To The Dress, yelling at the screen that “You look rubbish in a mermaid gown, love! You need a bit of flare!”

He grinned as he had a thought. Master hadn’t seen him present female yet. He could go out and buy the slinkiest, sexiest dress he could find, some good makeup, and introduce Master to Tonya.  Maybe throw in some devilishly sexy lingerie. Goal in mind, Crowley dressed and left the hotel room.

After asking the concierge where to buy very good dresses, Crowley set off down the street. The shop he had been told about was on the right hand corner, and Crowley could see that it had dresses of all shapes and sizes. Grinning, he went in, the bell over the door jangling. 

A rather pretty woman in a green dress smiled at him. “Hello, welcome to Fay’s Fashions. I’m Fay. How may I be of service?”

“I’m looking for the sexiest, slinkiest dress you have. Preferably in red.”

Fay grinned. “Surprise for the girlfriend?”

Crowley blushed. “Um..the boyfriend, actually. I...the dress is...”

Fay smiled. “Is it for you?”

Crowley nodded, biting his lip. Some merchants were weird about what they perceived as a man wearing women’s clothing. He’d been thrown out more than once. 

Fay’s smile didn’t waver. “I think I can find something that will knock your man’s socks off.” Crowley’s shoulders slumped in visible relief and he followed Fay into the depths of the racks.

“Here we are. Go try that one.” Fay handed him a dress that was a red so deep it was almost black, with a slit that went straight up to the pancreas and a plunging neckline. Crowley went into the dressing room and slipped it on. “How’s it look?”

Crowley gulped. “It’s um...it’s perfect.” The dress hugged her curves, showed off her legs to amazing effect, and had the advantage of being sleeveless, so her tattoos were showing. 

“Well, let me see!” Fay whistled as Crowley stepped out of the dressing room. “Oh, definitely. Your man’s eyes are gonna fall out of his head when he sees you in that.”

Crowley bought the dress, as well as a golden jacket to go with it and a pair of black heels, then went back to the hotel for a quick shower and a rest before the concert. Master had told her the night before that Newt would be picking her up in front of the hotel. 

She dressed, put her hair up in her favorite braid, then headed out to wait. She didn’t have to wait long. Newt goggled when he saw her. “Mr. Crowley?”

“Miss, actually.”

Newt recovered remarkably quickly. “Miss.” He opened the door for her, and she slid into the back. “You look very nice, Miss.” 

“Thank you.”

They drove to the venue, where Crowley was given front row seating. She settled back, waiting for Master to come on stage. 

Aziraphale came on stage, looked out into the front row, and nearly fainted. Crowley was wearing a dress. And not just any dress. One of the sexiest he had ever seen. She caught his eye, winked, and blew him a kiss. He caught it out of reflex, still gobsmacked. In the wings, Gabriel cleared his throat loudly. Aziraphale started, glared daggers at him, then walked over to the central mic. “Good morning, everyone! How is everyone?” Loud applause. “Wonderful!” 

He launched into his set, singing and playing, letting the audience participate and sing along. He could hear Crowley’s beautiful tenor, and he wanted nothing more than to pull her up on stage and do a duet, preferably a love song. But he knew if he did, there would be questions, and his love had asked for privacy for now. Instead, he settled on gazing straight into her eyes as he sang, mouthing ‘I love you’ in between takes. She smiled softly at him and mouthed ‘You too.’ 

He finished the last song in the set, bowed, and left the stage. Crowley was already heading back to meet him, politely excusing herself. 

They reached his dressing room at the same time. Without a word, Aziraphale opened the door, shoved her inside, then came in, kicked the door shut, slammed her hard against the wall, and sucked her breath out with his kiss. “Oh my god baby you look so fucking hot.” He moaned between kisses, placing his hands on her thighs and squeezing hard. “So fucking hot. That dress, and those heels, god, it took every fucking bit of willpower I had to not end the show early.” He picked her up, letting her wrap her legs around his waist, and carried her over to the dressing table. With a sweep of his hand, it was cleared, and he placed her on it, moving so he was between her legs. “So fucking sexy, my baby girl. You are presenting female?” Crowley nodded, whining, and Aziraphale bit down on her neck. “What do I call my sweet baby girl?”

“T..Tonya.”

“Tonya.” Crowley nearly came from the way Aziraphale said her name. “My sweet Tonya. You look ravishing. Would you like to be ravished?”

“Y..yes, please Master!”

Aziraphale kissed her, biting her lower lip before kneeling in front of her. “You’ve sucked me so many times, my darling, that I think I should return the favor.” He gently pushed her dress up. “Oh, my Flame, did you get new panties too?” He fingered the delicate lace, licking his lips at the sight of Crowley’s perfect cock encased in them. “They’re beautiful, and it would be a shame to ruin them.” He slid them down her legs, then leaned in and licked the tip of her cock. Crowley gasped, digging her fingers into the dressing room table. 

“Master...”

“Shh...I’ve got you, my sweet girl. Let me show you how good Master can be to his baby.” Aziraphale whispered before swallowing her down and sucking hard. 

“Master!” Crowley’s head went backwards and her eyes fluttered shut as Aziraphale sucked her like a man eating a gourmet meal. “Master Master I love you you feel so good Master ohh...” Words became too much. The sensations were building, and building, and she was going to explode from pleasure, she couldn’t hold back. 

Aziraphale swallowed her seed, smirking to himself at her howl of pleasure. He licked up the bits he missed, then stood and pulled her into a desperate, messy kiss. “Shall we go back to the hotel?”

Crowley nodded. 

**Tuesday**

“Is that comfortable, love?”

“Yes Master, it’s very comfortable.” Crowley said. He was currently tied to the hotel bed with silk ropes, naked except for a blindfold. Aziraphale kissed him, and Crowley kissed back, eager to begin. 

“Now, remember, if you get uncomfortable for any reason, use the safe word.” 

“I won’t need it, Master.”

“Hmm.” Aziraphale picked up the crop and ran it down Crowley’s front. “We’re going to do a six count for now. Okay?”

“Yes, Master.”

Aziraphale lifted the crop and brought it down on Crowley’s right nipple with a loud smack. “Ah! Master! One!”

A smack to the left nipple. “Two! Oh!”

A smack to each arm. “Th..three! Four! Oh, Master, don’t stop, it feels so good!”

A smack to each leg. “Five! Six! More, please!”

Aziraphale stroked his cock with the crop until Crowley was erect and dripping, whining steadily, begging for more. Aziraphale smacked him, and Crowley howled and came, his body writhing in the ropes. “Master...”

Aziraphale cleaned him up. “Now, I’ve got my show, and you...my darling, are going to stay here. But don’t worry, I won’t be long, and I’ve got something I think you’ll like.” 

Crowley heard him rummaging around, then felt Master lift his ass up and slide something solid and slick with lube into it. “Oh, fuck!” 

Master giggled. “Indeed. One more thing.” There was a clicking sound, and the plug began to vibrate, pressing down on Crowley’s prostate. “Now, I have it on a low setting, so you should be alright. Can you be a good boy and not come until I fuck you later? Can you stay here, tied and blindfolded, while that pleasures you?”

“Yes!”

“Good boy.”

(Later that night, Crowley discovered that he could come multiple times, and did.)

**Wednesday**

“I’m thinking of going to the hotel spa today, Master. They’re offering massages.”

“What a nice idea. Do have fun, darling.”

“I will, and maybe after I can give you one?”

“Oh, yes please.”

**later**

“Ohh...oh Anthony, you are a natural at this..your hands are magic...”

“Master...ohh...love you...”

“My darling. Come up here and kiss me.”

“As my Master wishes.”


	8. Paved With Intentions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley opens up more about his past, and Aziraphale makes a promise.

Chapter Eight: Paved With Intentions

**Thursday**

Crowley blinked open his eyes, stretched, yawned, and reached out for Aziraphale. His hands encountered empty space and he sat up, blinking blearily and looking around the hotel room for any sign of his master. Nothing. “Aziraphale? Master? Where are you?” Crowley’s voice was plaintive. He reached over and touched Aziraphale’s side of the bed. It was cool, indicating he had been gone for a while. Crowley hugged himself with the blankets, blinking back tears. 

‘It finally happened,’ a voice whispered in his head that sounded very much like his father’s. ‘He got tired of you, tired of how clingy you are, and decided to go to another hotel and leave you. He’s probably checking in there right now, laughing to himself with relief that clingy, needy Anthony Crowley is out of his life finally.’ 

“No. Master loves me.”

‘Oh, please. As if anyone could love the foul, ugly thing that you are. Face it, you aren’t worthy of love.’ 

“Am. Master tells me he loves me.”

A mocking laugh. ‘And you believe him? God, you are pathetic! Face it, he’s got his pick of who he wants. He’s famous. You aren’t. You’re not even somebody. You’re a nothing, a loser, a whiny, clingy sack of shit who can’t even read, for fuck’s sake! Pathetic. Useless.”

Crowley huddled in on himself, sobbing. The voice was right. There was no way Aziraphale could love him. Not really, and this proved it. He was gone, and Crowley would have to figure out a way to leave without being seen, because his master wasn’t here, wasn’t coming back, wasn’t…

“Anthony?” That was Master’s voice, and he sounded very upset. “Anthony, sweetheart, what?”

“You’re going to leave me!” Crowley wailed. He saw Aziraphale blink, then set something on the coffee table and come onto the bed, pulling him into a tight embrace. 

“Darling, never! What made you think that?”

Crowley sniffled. “You were gone when I woke up.”

Aziraphale kissed the side of his head. “You silly thing. I went to go get us breakfast. I would have asked you to go with me, but you looked so very peaceful sleeping that I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Breakfast?”

“Yes, my silly serpent, breakfast. It’s in the bag on the table. I brought you an apple danish and some coffee from the cafe down the road. I took longer than I thought because they were busy.”

Crowley blinked back tears. “So...you aren’t tired of me?  Aren’t going to leave?”

“Never, my love. I’m afraid you’re rather stuck with me.” Aziraphale said, giving him a lingering kiss on the lips. “Now, according to everyone that works at this hotel, the pastries and coffees from this cafe are, and I quote, “The best we will ever have”, and I intend to see if the hype is true.” He slid out of bed, fetched the paper bag he had set on the table, and climbed back in next to Crowley. “What would you say to breakfast in bed, love?” Crowley nodded, and Aziraphale reached in the bag and pulled out a pastry wrapped in wax paper. The rich smell of dough, cinnamon, and apples filled the room. “I believe this one is yours, love.” Crowley took it, unwrapped a bit, and took a bite. 

“Oh, wow. That’s really good. What flavor did you get?”

Aziraphale dug out a to go coffee cup and read what was on the side. “Black, no milks or sugar. That’s yours.” He pulled another bit of wax paper out. “I got myself a blueberry muffin.” He pulled out his own to go cup and took a sip. “Oooh, lovely.”

Crowley’s coffee was dark, bitter, and strong. Just the way he loved it. They ate in silence for a bit. “Master?” 

“Hmm?” Aziraphale finished his muffin, which had been very good and absolutely packed with blueberries. 

“M sorry.”

Aziraphale blinked. “For what?”

“Being so pathetic, thinking that you were going to leave me.”

Aziraphale placed his coffee on the nightstand so he could pull Crowley fully into his arms. “You aren’t pathetic, and I’m never leaving you. I sense there’s a story behind this, though.” Crowley nodded. “Do you want to tell me?”

Crowley gulped. “Um...I’ve alway s had pretty bad abandonment issues, thanks to how neglected I was as a kid, and they got worse once I was kicked out. I told you I went to a shelter, yeah?” Aziraphale nodded. “It was supposed to be for youths, but a couple older guys lived there too. One of them, Michael, was really charismatic. Had all of us eating out of his hand, falling over ourselves to please him. He um...he took a ‘special liking’ to me. Told me I was special, that he felt something ‘profound’ for me. And of course, me being starved for any sort of affection, I fell for it hook, line, and sinker. He’d...ask me to..do things to him, saying that since it wasn’t...since he wasn’t...putting his dick in me that it wasn’t sex, and therefore okay. And I believed him, I believed him so much that when he left the shelter and got his own place I followed him. He had me convinced that I wouldn’t survive without him.” 

Aziraphale hugged him tight. “Oh, my poor darling. You know he was lying, right?”

“Yeah, now I do. But at the time? Being a stupid teenager that hadn’t ever known any sort of affection? I thought he was telling the truth. I thought he really cared for me. Turns out he just wanted someone pretty to...use. It didn’t take him long to show his true colors, though. He’d yell, he’d hit, and...sometimes, when I made him really mad, he’d...take. I’d apologize, he’d tell me it was for my own good, and the cycle would begin again.” Crowley shuddered on a sob. “Thing is, I still loved him, because he could be so sweet, so loving. I changed to become what he wanted, and he still...I woke up one morning, and the flat was empty, his clothes gone. He hadn’t even left a note. Took me about a week to realize he wasn’t coming back. I cried for weeks after.”

Aziraphale kissed the top of his head. “My darling, you were so ill used. If I ever see this Michael, I shall be hard put to not resort to violence.”

“Thank you, Master. So after he left me, I ended back up on the streets, since there was no way I could afford rent on the flat. That was when I took some less than legit jobs, so I could afford enough to pay rent at a hostel. It took me a long time to...find myself, I guess. I’d spent three years under Michael’s spell, and I had come to believe that I really was a nothing, a nobody.” Crowley took a sip of coffee. “Then that bodyguard job came along, and I met Luke, and he was like Michael, but...he used his charisma differently. I thought...I came to him, one night, at the bar, and...offered myself.”

“What did he do?”

“Turned me down very firmly and politely, told me he was happily married, and that he would never use another person like that. He got the story out of me, and after I had finished crying, told me I could sleep at the Red Serpent and work the bar in exchange. I’d already wowed him with my skills, so the exchange was a fair one. He also got me in touch with a really amazing therapist for queer abuse victims. He’s honestly like the father I’ve never had now, and Lily is my honorary Mum.”

Aziraphale stroked his arm. “After I got thrown out, I went to my Uncle Terry’s place. He’s about the only good one in the whole rotten bunch, and he took me in until I graduated secondary, then gave me some money to get a flat. He encouraged me to persuade a music degree. He threw me a massive party when Falling From Eden hit platinum, and he came to every single concert, show, or benefit I did. Always sat in the front row, middle seat.” Aziraphale sniffled. “He got Alzheimer’s when I was touring and promoting ‘Angels and Demons on My Shoulders’. It...took him quick. I got the news when I was still on tour, and I nearly didn’t go onstage, I was so devastated. But Gabriel told me that he wouldn’t want me to just wallow. My brother’s an asshole, but sometimes he’s right.”

“How did he become your manager?”

Aziraphale laughed. “He hired himself. Told me that if I was serious about this ‘music thing’, then he would come along to make sure I didn’t do anything monumentally stupid.”

“Like bring your redheaded twink slut on tour with you?” Crowley said teasingly, and Aziraphale chuckled and tugged his hair. 

“Hush you.”

“Welll...I am a redhead. And definitely a twink. You’re in your forties, right?”

“I’m forty two. That’s hardly a decrepit old man, my darling. How old are you?”

“Just turned thirty three last month. The eighteenth.”

“Well, happy belated birthday.” Aziraphale kissed him. Crowley set his coffee down and moved so he was straddling his lap. “Hello, love.”

“Hi. How long until your first show?” Crowley asked, sliding his hand in between them and stroking Aziraphale through his trousers. Aziraphale bucked his hips and moaned. 

“About...ohh...thirty minutes...which means I should...oh...” Crowley slipped his hand in between the elastic and stroked his cock with the tips of his nails. “Darling...do that again...” Crowley obliged, and Aziraphale whined. “Anthony, my love…I really do need to get ready to leave, it takes fifteen minutes to get to the stadium...” Crowley smiled like a shark and pumped hard. Aziraphale wailed and came. “You beautiful, wicked thing.” 

After cleaning himself up and giving Crowley a lingering kiss goodbye, Aziraphale left, still dazed by what he had been told. No wonder his poor love was so clingy, so sweet to him. Aziraphale was determined that Crowley would know for certain that he was very deeply loved and cared for.

“You seem deep in thought, Mr. Fell.” Newt said. Aziraphale looked up from his notebook.

“I am. Thinking of a song. A very special one, for a very special someone.”

“Crowley?” 

“Yep.”

Aziraphale collapsed into his chair in his dressing room, head back. He took a long sip of water and checked the time on his phone. Thirty minutes until the next act. He kicked off his shoes, wiggling his toes in his socks. His phone buzzed, indicating a text.  Crowley was coming to a later show, saying that he wanted to rest a bit. 

‘Pet: Are you alone?’ 

Aziraphale texted back. ‘Yes.’

‘Sending you something.’ 

Aziraphale sucked in a breath as a picture appeared on his screen of Crowley, kneeling on the hotel bed, naked except for his collar. His legs were spread wide, and he was holding his cock in hand, angling it towards the camera. ‘I’m wearing this right now. Want me to show you?’

‘Fuck yes.’ 

Aziraphale propped his phone up on the table. A few moments later, Crowley’s face filled the screen, then moved back so his entire body was on display. “Can you see me, Master?” 

“Yes...” Aziraphale reached down and pulled out his own cock. He didn’t stroke it yet, though. He wanted to watch his pet. “Touch yourself for Master, Pet.”

Crowley sighed and rubbed his nipples with his left hand, while at the same time sucking on the fingers of his right. “Master, I want to please you, want to be your good boy...”

“You are, you are such a good doggy, such a sweet pet, my darling demon.” Aziraphale moaned, stroking himself. “Keep going, good, sweet little slut..”

Crowley’s right hand traveled down his chest, pinching and stroking. “I’m a good boy for Master, I do what Master tells me, I love being good for Master...” he panted, his hips swaying and consequently thrusting his cock towards the camera.  He stroked his balls, moaning. “This is all for Master, Master loves me, Master touches me so well..”

“Yes, yes, Master loves his pet, loves touching him, fuck yes...” Aziraphale chanted, his own hand pumping his cock hard. “Touch your cock, pet, fuck yourself on your fist...”

Crowley wrapped his hand around his cock and pumped hard. “Master loves his doggy, his doggy wants to please Master, loves Master, I love you, I love you...I...” Crowley screamed and came, his spend painting his chest and stomach. Aziraphale came seconds later. “I love you, Master.”

“I love you too, my brilliant darling. I’ll see you soon.”

**Friday**

Aziraphale secured the rope and smiled down at Crowley. “So gorgeous, my darling. Are you comfortable?”

Crowley nodded quickly. He was kneeling on the bed, hands and arms tied behind his back in an elaborate knot, his legs spread wide. Aziraphale had put the vibrating plug in him that morning, and it felt so good, rubbing on his prostate. Master had ordered him to wear it all day long, even at the show, and a few times had touched the remote hidden in his pocket, making Crowley whine. “You did so good today, my love. So good. You must be aching for relief.”

“Yes, Master.” Crowley said in a soft, submissive tone. He knew Master would not prolong his need. Master was kind, and sweet, and loving. Master cared. “I am ready, if it pleases you to give me relief.”

Aziraphale trailed kisses down Crowley’s spine. “Such a good good doggy. So good. I love you so much.” He slicked his fingers up with the lube, then reached in and gently pulled the plug out, placing it on a towel. “Are you ready for me, my love?”

“Yes, Master.”

Aziraphale lined up and slid into Crowley’s perfect heat with a loud moan. “Oh, my Pet, you are so tight, so hot.”

“Master...you feel so good...thank you...”

Aziraphale fucked him sweet and slow, hot words of obscene praise pouring from his lips as he vigorously pumped his cock. Crowley, being on the edge as he was, didn’t take long to come, his entire body shaking like a live wire. 

Aziraphale held him up, kissing his neck and shoulders, stroking him as he whispered over and over what a good, sweet, obedient boy he was.  Crowley panted, shivering in happiness, then asked if Master would be willing to write on him again. Aziraphale was more than willing, and Crowley went and got the paints, handing them over and laying on his stomach. The wings Aziraphale had drawn were faded. “What shall I draw here?”

“Apple tree.” 

Aziraphale kissed him between the shoulder blades and began sketching a tree. “You are such a lovely canvas, you know. Not just for drawing and writing on, but for other things. You mark up so well, and your bruises are so intoxicating.”

“I like the bruises you give me, Master. They show how much you love me.”

**Saturday**

“No show today, my love. We are free to do whatever we want.”

“Want you to come back to bed so I can suck you off and ride you.”

“Well, if you insist...” 


End file.
